The Spirit's Beauty : A Fairy Tale of Sorts
by NonsensicalLyrics
Summary: When Sokka and Aang go snooping around a seemingly abandoned ship only to discover it's cursed, Katara must sacrifice herself in exchange for the Avatar's freedom. Based loosely on the traditional fairy tale, "Beauty and the Beast". Bluetara/Zutara.
1. The Abandoned Ship

A/N: This is loosely based on the traditional fairy tale, though there may be allusions to the various adapatations. I've seen so many fanfic adaptations in several different fandoms, but never one that I was really satisfied with, so I decided to take a shot at it myself. I hope I don't disappoint myself

Just so some of the changes in the history don't catch you off guard, this takes place in a slightly alternate universe. The extent of the changes will be discussed in further detail at the end of the chapter. In the meantime, try not to worry about it too hard.

I hope you enjoy!

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><p><strong>Part I : The Abandoned Ship<strong>

o

The ship was landlocked in what must have in the distant past been a small inlet. Though its hull was overgrown with vines, at a glance it seemed to be in pretty good shape, considering. The waterbed had long since dried up, and an ecosystem of shrubs and young trees, wildflowers and brilliant blue mothflies now made it their home. At the boys' approach a flying rabbit-squirrel scurried up the side of the ship and leaped into the nearest tree.

Meat-instincts sharp as ever, Sokka's stomach growled at the sight, reminding him that it had been several hours since he'd eaten.

"Aang," he said, putting a hand on the younger boy's shoulder, "Why don't we head back? Katara's probably had enough time to cool off by now, I'm sure it's safe"

The airbender turned to Sokka, his grey eyes wide with youthful excitement.

"Oh, come one! Don't you want to explore the ship?" Though the Avatar's voice had begun to deepen since Sokka first met him, his face and heart were still those of a child, full of innocent glee even as he rapidly approached his sixteenth birthday with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Sokka glanced at the vessel ahead of them and cringed as a foreboding feeling washed over him.

"I really don't think that would be the best idea. Don't you remember what happened the _last _time you decided to snoop around a landlocked boat?"

Aang frowned, remembering the ancient merchant's ship he had talked Katara into showing him when he had first arrived at the South Pole three years ago. Who knew it would be so flammable?

"Well," he said, perking up, "No one got hurt."

"Yeah, because you had a waterbending prodigy with you to put out the fire before it could explode the entire ship!"

"Soooooook-kaaaaaaaa! Come on! I'll be careful – I won't touch anything, promise."

Sokka looked unimpressed.

"Aren't you even a little curious about what it's doing here?" Aang wheedled. "Who knows, there might be some really neat weapons or something."

Sokka appraised the ship again.

"Well…I guess a quick poke around couldn't hurt. But no touching anything!"

Aang clapped his hands and raced towards the ship on an air scooter while Sokka ran after, trying to catch up and tripping on vegetation the entire way.

"Just a few minutes. Ten, fifteen tops," Sokka said, puffing to catch his breath as he came to a stop beside Aang at the side of the vessel. "Then it's back to the inn where we left Katara. I'm hungry, and I'm not going to stick around wasting away while you play explorer."

"Yeah, sure," Aang replied, looking for a way to climb up. Without a word he created another air scooter and whizzed around to the other side and back.

"It sure looks a lot bigger up close, but I can't find any way up," he reported.

"Hmm, well, I guess that's so much for exploring. Let's go get dinner – Aang?"

"I'm up here Sokka!" While the watertribe boy hadn't been looking Aang had used his airbending to propel himself up over the side of the boat, and was now waving down from the deck.

"There's a rope bridge over here," he called, pointing towards the stern. "I'll lower it so you can climb up."

This was achieved in short order, and soon Sokka stood next to Aang aboard the ship. The trees of the surrounding forest cast a shadow over the deck as the late afternoon sun sank lower in the sky. They hadn't noticed the noisy chirps and buzzes of the surrounding fauna before, but now they were sorely missed in the sudden hush that overcame them, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

Of course neither boy would admit that this majorly freaked them out.

"Come on, let's go inside," said Aang. As he walked towards the cabin door his step was noticeably less light hearted and more hesitant than usual, but Sokka didn't point it out. He was too busy readying his boomerang,

On the ground level was what appeared to be an abandoned galley that smelled of mud and pond water. Long metal tables and benches were bolted to the floor and served as trellises for the wisteria-lilies growing wildly from the mud and shallow water that flooded the room.

"Gross!" Sokka picked up and shook a mud-filled shoe with disgust. As if on cue an adolescent mockingfrog leapt out of the water and landed on his head before croaking out a loud "chirrup" and diving back into the water, splashing the hapless warrior. Aang laughed from where he floated safely above the water on his air scooter, but Sokka was less amused.

"There's an entire ecosystem living in here!"

"Probably," Aang chirped, Sokka's distress having done much to chase away the eerie feeling that had befallen just moment s before. "I guess this thing has been here a really long time."

Sokka picked his way back towards the wall where the water was shallower, and began to edge his way around towards the staircase near the front of the ship.

"You're telling me," he said, "Now that I've gotten a closer look at this thing, I've never seen any fire nation ship like this before – and it must be fire nation with all the steel. The design seems really outdated."

"I haven't seen one like this either. I wonder why it's still in such good shape. I mean, aside from the frogs and stuff."

"Yeah, aside from the frogs," Sokka grumbled, stepping out of the water and onto the stairs, "Are you coming, or what?"

"Coming!" Aang zipped across the room, his scooter sending ripples through the water, and landed gracefully next to his friend, dry as a bone. Sokka glared, and then pushed, sending Aang butt first into the water. Luckily the younger boy was able to use his airbending to slow his fall, but he still got wet.

"Sokka! What was that for?" he yelled in confusion as he jumped back to his feet, but Sokka was already well on his way up the stairs and ignoring him, so Aang just blew himself dry with a quick gust of air before rushing to catch up.

The staircase was dimly lit by what little sunlight flickered through the narrow, red tinted windows. Soon enough they came to a landing that opened onto a dark hallway leading to rooms that would on a working vessel presumably have served as the officers' quarters.

They passed two more landings before reaching the observation room at the top from which they could see the entire clearing. Like the rest of the ship, this room too had been taken over by plant life. Thick vines framed their view, threading their way through jagged holes in the glass that surrounded three sides of the room and taking advantage of the sunlight such height offered. On them grew brilliant red and gold flowers, the largest of them at least the size of a grown man's fist.

"I've never seen sun roses that big before," Aang whispered in wonder.

"Sun roses?" Sokka repeated, more skeptical than impressed. He was more interested in the steering equipment and had taken little notice of the flowers before the other boy mentioned them.

"Mmhm. That's what they're called. They're really rare – I've never actually seen them growing before, just the flowers. They're usually only sold one at time because they're so hard to grow, but the ones I saw were nowhere near this big."

Sokka leaned forward and inspected one, putting his face right next to it and sniffing cautiously. He then reached out to touch it before yanking his hand back with a yelp.

"Roses have thorns, Sokka, you should be more careful," Aang said helpfully.

"I know roses have thorns!" the older boy snapped before going back to inspecting his injured finger. Aang, more cautiously than Sokka, fingered the leaves and vines and furrowed his brow.

"I wonder why they're growing up here so well. I guess there is plenty of sunlight, but, it's a metal ship, and this is pretty far away from the ground, and from the galley-pond. Flowers can't live on sunlight alone, right?"

"Why are you asking me?" Sokka shrugged. "You're the flower expert."

They looked around for a few more minutes more before Sokka decided to go look at the rest of the ship.

"Yeah, okay," Aang agreed, "I just want to take one of these roses for Katara."

Sokka gave a loud snort from behind him.

"As an apology present!" Aang hastily explained.

"Yeah, sure."

"You know I don't feel that way about her anymore; it was just a crush." Aang drew a tiny sliver of water from the water pouch he had taken to carrying with him and carefully cut off a deep red flower at the base of its stem.

"And besides," he added, turning to Sokka, "I'm going to say it's from both of us." With this he brushed past and started down the stairs, rose in hand, Sokka following after.

"Hey, I don't owe Katara a thing. If anything she should be apologizing to me, the way she blew up at us. Did you see her water-whip me this morning? Right out on the street – there was an audience!"

"She did have some good points, Sokka. We do tend to take all the stuff she does for us for granted a lot."

"An. _Audience_."

"And you did say that it was her 'sacred duty as a woman' to wash your dirty socks."

"I was joking!"

They quieted as they reached the uppermost landing. The sun had gone even further down by now and it was almost pitch black outside of the stairwell. Sokka grabbed an unlit torch that rested in a nearby sconce and thrust it towards Aang.

"Here. Use your Avatar magic to light this."

"It's not magic," Aang said "And you know I don't know how to firebend – we haven't even found me an earthbending sifu yet."

"How hard can it be? Just snap you fingers together and make some fire." Sokka rubbed his fingers together in demonstration several times, finally producing the desired _snap_ on the third try.

Aang ignored this.

"I think I have some fire rocks in my pocket, hold on." After a moment Aang produced them.

"Hold the torch still while I light it."

"Some Avatar, can't even make a single measly flame," Sokka grumbled, holding the torch while Aang rubbed the rocks together.

"Hey, I'm not even sixteen and I've already sort of almost mastered _two_ elements. How many can you bend?"

"Three. Sarcasm, boomerang, and your butt."

Aang finally coaxed a spark from the rocks and in moments they were awash in the torch's orange glow and making their way down the hall, their steps reverberating ominously against the metal.

Sokka stopped at the first door they came to and stuck his boomerang in his belt so he would have a free hand to turn the handle. It wouldn't budge. He shook it a little, throwing his weight into it as much as he could while still holding the torch upright, but it remained shut tight.

"This room over here is already open," said Aang, his whisper echoing clearly down the corridor from his position a several yards down the hall.

In a few quick strides Sokka was by his side. The windows of the room faced east, and not a speck of sunlight made its way through the tinted glass to aid their sight. Cautiously, Sokka stepped inside, holding the torch at arm's length, trying to cast as much light on the room as possible.

"I wonder if this was the captain's bedroom," Aang said softly from behind him. Indeed, the room was more spacious than what one would usually see on this type of vessel. A large bed was bolted on one side of the room, with what looked like what might have once been a Fire Nation flag hanging above it. The fabric now hung in tatters, burn marks scorching the edges. Broken and melted candle stubs and trampled parchments scattered the floor.

"Well, it's kind of a dump now." Sokka kicked at a candle and watched as it rolled across the room and under the bed.

"Oh man, but check out these swords," he said, casting the torch light on the wall where two twin blades hung. He made his way towards them, careful not to trip on any of the debris.

"Sokka, you said not to touch anything," Aang protested. Something about this room gave him a bad feeling, even more so than the rest of the ship. He was really starting to regret his insistence that they explore.

"I said for _you_ not to touch anything. I, on the other hand, am not the one who almost single handedly melted the entire south pole, and therefore can touch whatever I want."

Sokka unhooked one of the swords with a flourish, the fire light glinting off the steel.

"Wow, this thing has great balance. Aang, you got to check this –"

The torch's fire suddenly flared high, and Sokka almost dropped it in his surprise. Twin torches on either side of the room came to life, and candles of various sizes that lined the shelves on the walls became visible as they too ignited.

"Aang, I thought you said you couldn't fire bend yet..."

"I can't." Aang's voice came out as barely a squeak.

An angry roar filled the room, drowning out the clatter of the sword as Sokka dropped it in his terror.

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><p>AN: Since I'm not sure how much of or how clearly the changes in history will end up being revealed in story and I don't want to clog up the narrative with a bunch of irrelevant exposition, I'm going to give a quick run down here for the curious.

Same world, with benders, avatars, four nations, etc. Big difference is Avatar Roku wasn't killed by Sozin, and the comet wasn't used for nefarious purposes. So, no 100 year war, no Air Nomad genocide. Roku died of (extremely) old age over 16 years ago, and the Avatar was reborn as Aang.

Ozai is still Fire Lord. Lu Ten died of an illness around the age he died in the show, and as in the show Ozai used his death as a gambit to take the throne, Zuko ends up scarred and banished for being a disappointment, Iroh goes with him, etc. Zuko wasn't given any mission, just the vague order to "prove himself". Shortly after leaving the Fire Nation he and Iroh disappeared and haven't been heard from since.

As with Sozin in the show, the Air Nomad elders recognized that Ozai was a megalomaniacal despot, and so revealed to Aang his Avatar-ness early so he could get a jump on mastering the elements and taking his place as peace-keeper in chief. Aang went to the South Pole about 3 years ago at age 12 to begin learning water bending – because there was no war the Southern Tribe is thriving and are generally thought to have a superior bending style than the north by the other nations (perhaps because of their greater gender equality). Since then Aang has progressed greatly with his waterbending but still hasn't quite mastered it. However, he needs to get a move on it and master the other elements, so he's currently in the Earth Kingdom searching for an Earth bending master to teach him. Katara and Sokka are accompanying him – Katara to continue training him in water bending, and Sokka because, as future leader of the tribe, Hakoda wants him to learn about the other nations.

Wooh! That took longer than I expected.

So, yeah, just a few tweaks to facilitate adapting it into the fairy tale type story I want to tell. Most of it really isn't that important to the main story here, it just serves as a canvas, if you will- which is why I'm giving all this information in an author's note rather than taking greater pains to work it into the narrative.. Here's everyone's ages, in case you're confused:

Aang – 15, closing in on 16 in a month or two;

Katara – just turned 18;

Sokka – 19;

Zuko – would be 20 ½, if anyone knew where the heck he was.

Mockingfrogs, if you were wondering, are a hybridization of mocking birds and frogs (duh). They mimic the sounds of other birds and amphibians, and grow feathers once they mature from polliwogs into frogs. However, they don't fly immediately upon reaching frog hood – there's an extra stage added onto their lifecycle and they can't fly until they reach sexual maturity/adulthood. Also, they don't actually fly, they kind of glide, a lot like flying squirrels – or flying squirrel-rabbits :P

Sun roses and wisteria-lilies are also my own inventions.


	2. The Blue Demon

A/N: Thank you so much to those of you that reviewed! This is the first fanfic I've ever written that isn't intended primarily as comedy and also the first non-one shot I've done, so I can't tell you how much your encouragement is appreciated. And thank you to those who've put this fic on alert or have favorited it – I'm glad I have you attention =)

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><p><strong>Part II : The Blue Spirit<strong>

o

Katara enjoyed her day off. Mostly.

It wasn't that having a day to herself where she didn't have baby sit her full grown brother and the almost-full grown savior of mankind wasn't nice, because it most certainly was. She was able to relax without anyone rushing up to her to show her some new trick or whine about needing meat. She could walk around the little market, browsing the shops and stands, without having to say "No, you are not buying that belt, I don't care if it matches the shoes," or "We already have Appa and Momo, we don't need a koala-turtle. Yes, she's very cute, but the answer is still no." She could sit outside of a cute little café, sipping tea and studying a scroll, without being embarrassed by her companions' poor table manners and having to apologize to the owner and other customers before beating a retreat.

Yes, not having to deal with Sokka and Aang for a day was wonderful; their absence was not the problem. The problem was that, well, the people in this town were kind of _funny _– which was a little ironic considering they seemed to be so insistent that Katara herself was in fact the funny one.

Like the woman at the little jewelry stand that morning.

"What are you reading there, young lady? Must really be something," she had said as Katara walked past, engrossed in the earthbending scroll she had just purchased at the used scroll store a little ways down.

"Oh, this?" she said, a little caught off guard. The woman was probably going to try to sell her something, but Katara tried to be polite and friendly anyway, just as her mother always taught her. "It's just an earthbending scroll… I'm a master waterbender, but my old sifu told me to study the techniques other benders use if I ever have the chance, so I thought –"

"Reading!" interrupted the man at the next stall, a purveyor of fruit. "What's a pretty young thing like you doing reading? Donchya have any friends?"

"I have friends!" Katara insisted, bewildered by his rudeness. "Like I said, I'm a bender, so I'm studying other forms of bending. And anyway I'm not from around here. I'm traveling with my brother and our friend, but I wanted some time to myself, so they went off looking for some ship they heard rumors about, and –"

"Time to yourself? You are the odd one, aren't you," said the woman with a laugh. "It's a good thing you're such a lovely thing. Look at those eyes. Doesn't she have beautiful eyes, Garu?"

"Yes, she does have very nice eyes, I'll give you that," agreed the fruit seller.

Katara didn't quite know how to react to all this and only managed to gape like a half-affronted, half-flattered fish.

"Um, thank you?"

"Oh you're welcome, my dear! Here, why don't you take this bracelet, on the house. It matches your lovely blue eyes."

Katara shook her head at the memory, touching the dyed and beaded leather bracelet now on her right wrist. It was awfully nice of the woman to insist she have it, though of course Katara had offered to pay. She supposed she shouldn't think too unkindly of her, even if she had called her odd.

The girl sighed and stood up from the little table she sat at on the front porch of the inn, looking up at the sky. It was approaching dark, and Sokka and Aang still had not returned. She was beginning to worry and wonder if she should retrieve Appa from the grassy field they had left him in and go searching for the boys.

She was just about to go inside, having decided to give the boys another half hour before she instigated operation "rescue the idiots" when she saw a lone figure dressed in blue running towards her from the path that led into the woods. She stood up, shielding her eyes against the setting sun.

"Sokka…?"

"Katara!" he gasped as he reached her, grabbing her shoulders and breathing hard. "Katara… Aang… blue!"

"Sokka, calm down!" Katara said sitting her brother in the chair she had just occupied. "Take a deep breath and calmly tell me what happened. Where's Aang?"

Sokka leaned forward, gasping for air. He had run without stopping the entire way through the woods and back to the inn and was now on the verge of collapse.

"Something terrible," he finally managed to get out. "That ship, it's haunted. Katara, it has Aang!"

"What has Aang?" Katara asked, feeling her brother's forehead and looking him over for injuries. Then she saw the little trail of blood coming from his clenched right fist. "Sokka, what is this?"

She pried his hand open and found a crumpled rose and stem; Sokka had been clutching it so tightly the thorns cut into his skin. Katara looked back into her brother's face – he didn't seem to even notice that he was bleeding.

"Sokka, you're dehydrated," she told him gently "And your hand… let's go inside so I can heal you and get you some water, and then we'll sit down and figure out what to do."

Half-an-hour later Katara had a watered and healed Sokka sitting in an armchair in the empty common room of the inn. She had pulled up a rickety wooden chair to his side and was now listening in perturbation to his tale. The fire crackled nearby.

"And his teeth – they were more like fangs," Sokka shook his head as if trying to shake the memory out of his mind. "We told him that we hadn't realized it was his ship, that we thought it was abandoned, but…"

"Wait," Katara interrupted, "So this was some kind of spirit?"

"No," Sokka said uncharacteristically grave. "No, it was more like a demon. Aang told it that we had to get back or you'd be worried, and that he had picked the sun rose to give to you…"

Katara looked down at her hands where she cupped the flower. Oh, Aang…

She looked back up to her brother.

"How did you get away?" she asked.

Sokka held her gaze for a moment before turning away and looking into the fire.

"It… he – that _thing_ – when he heard about you…" Sokka took a deep breath a started again.

"I told him about you," Sokka said, a faint edge of regret and guilt to his voice, "Trying to convince him to let us go. I told him how good and kind you are, and how upset you would be if something happened to us. He seemed interested… I thought, I don't know, that maybe he would let us go for your sake, so we could get back to you…"

Sokka was silent for a long moment. Katara looked down at the ruined rose, stroking its soft petals, allowing her brother to take his time and already dreading what his next words would be. Footsteps were heard above them as someone went up the stairs and retired to their room. A door slam, then silence.

"He wants you," Sokka said at last, his voice barely a whisper as the orange glow from the fire danced against his features.

Katara looked up, shocked. She took a moment to process what had just been said.

"He… he wants…?"

Sokka looked at Katara once again, his eyes full of pain.

"He took Aang prisoner and let me go so I could give you the message. He says that if you come to him he'll let the Avatar free." A log shifted in the fire sending up sparks.

After taking a moment to make sure she had heard him right, Katara slumped back and stared blankly ahead. This… demon spirit. It, he, wanted her in exchange for Aang? She could hardly believe any of it. But, she knew her brother well enough to know that everything he had just said was true.

Her life in exchange for the Avatar's. Freedom in exchange for the wellbeing of the world.

It was an easy choice, really. Katara took in a deep breath and sat up and touched her brother's hand

"Do you think you can find the ship again?"

Sokka's brow furrowed in horror.

"What?" he said, yanking his hand away, "No! You are not going Katara. Aang's the Avatar, he can handle himself. I, _we_ can figure out a way around this –"

"Sokka, no," Katara stopped him, her voice firm. "No. It's too big of a risk. Aang isn't fully realized as an Avatar yet and we don't know what this thing will do to him if it doesn't get what it wants."

"We don't know what it'll do to you either. I won' let you–"

"I don't need you to let me!" Katara stood up, the firelight behind her, her silhouette an image of fierce determination. "If you don't show me the way to the ship I'll find it myself. Aang's life is more valuable than mine and you _know_ that, baby sister or not. If I can save him I will, and you will not stop me."

Sokka stared at his sister, and crumpled.

"I'll take you to the ship tomorrow," he said, resignation overwhelming, tears welling up in the back of his throat. "It's too dark out now. I don't think I'd be able to find it without any light."

This was what Katara knew she would hear.

She lowered herself to her knees beside Sokka before placing the flower gently in his hand.

"Thank you."

"I'm so sorry," he breathed. They sat together like that late into the night, as other patrons came and went, until the fire died and they finally went to their separate rooms.

o

The next morning found the siblings trudging along in silence as they retraced the path Sokka and Aang had taken yesterday to the dried inlet. Sokka's eyes were bloodshot; it was evident that he had had little sleep the night before. Katara hadn't fared much better.

The town in which they were staying was a couple hours ride by ostrich horse from the coast, or about an hour's flight by bison; the ship was said to be about halfway between. This meant a good two hours walk to the ship, though with the way Sokka was dragging his feet it would be closer to three. Katara had suggested before they left that maybe they should take Appa, but Sokka insisted that he wouldn't be able to find it again unless they went by land. Katara could see straight through the lie – Sokka had, if nothing else, a sense of direction as sharp as a messenger hawk's – but she let it slide. She couldn't blame him for wanting to stall a fate that she herself was so dreading, though she would never say it out loud.

She tried to remain positive. Sokka wasn't really the best judge of character; maybe the spirit-demon was nicer than he thought. Though holding an innocent boy hostage until his ransom of one young maiden was met certainly didn't seem like the type of thing a nice spirit would do. And why would he rather have her than Aang?

Katara held back a shudder and banished the thought from her mind.

By the time they could see the dried up, scrubby inlet and the ship in the distance the sun was high in the sky. Katara stopped her brother.

"You should stay here. In case it's a trap, so at least someone gets out."

Sokka's jaw tensed.

"Katara, there _has_ to be something else we can do. What will dad say when…"

"He'll say that you did the right thing. That _we_ did the right thing. My life for the Avatar's is more than a fair trade on our end."

Sokka clenched his eyes shut and breathed out hard through his nose before throwing his arms around his baby sister in a fierce hug that lasted only a moment.

"Go," he commanded, turning away, "Quickly."

Katara complied, not wanting to make this any harder than it already was. With one last glance at her brother, she walked the rest of the distance to the ship.

"Hello?" she called when she finally reached it. It was smaller than she imagined somehow. Not that its size wasn't impressive – it was certainly bigger than most water tribe vessels – but it was by no means the largest ship she had never seen.

Hearing no answer and not seeing any other way up Katara used her bending to weave the vines so they could be used as a ladder and climbed up the side of the boat – a technique she had learned when a few members of the Foggy Bottom Swamp Tribe visited the Southern Tribe years ago. She slowly explored the upper deck, senses alert.

"Spirit?" she called, "I'm here for Aang – for the Avatar."

A creak and a thud came from behind her and Katara turned around to see that a hatch leading below deck had opened. She swallowed, noticing suddenly how dry her mouth was. She uncapped her water pouch, despite knowing that it would be of little use against a spirit, and began her descent.

Her way was lit by torches that lined the walls, leading her down stairs and through corridors until far below deck she came to a cell that held a yellow and orange-clad figure.

"Aang?" she breathed, stepping towards him.

He turned towards her voice, and broke into a sad smile.

"Katara," he said. "I knew you'd come. I hoped that you wouldn't, but…"

"Of course I came." She quickly crossed the remaining distance between them and held his hands through bars. "I would never just leave you here knowing I could do something about it."

"I know." Aang squeezed her hand.

"Do you know where the spirit is?" she asked and quickly glanced around the dark room. "Maybe there's a way we can get you out before he even realizes I'm here..."

The lights all flickered out save for one near the cell.

"I'm afraid that will be impossible," came a rasp from the shadows.

Katara turned around with a poorly suppressed gasp, pressing her back to the bars. She peered into the blackness.

"Are you the spirit?"

A large, cloaked figure emerged from dark. She could just make out a shape, the rest in shadow, but she knew from its size that this must be the demon Sokka had spoken of. Katara steeled herself for what she had to do and took a deep breath.

"I am Katara, Master Waterbender of the Southern Tribe," she said in clear voice, not allowing herself to waver. "I am here to offer myself in exchange for the Avatar's freedom."

"I know why you're here," the spirit-demon snarled. He appeared to collect himself before continuing. "You make this offer of you own volition? No one is forcing you?"

Katara glanced at Aang – the boy's head drooped forward, unable to look her in the eye.

"Yes," Katara said, looking back to the shadowed figure. "If you mean that I willingly came here in order to barter for the Avatar's life, than yes, I came here of my own volition. But I can't say that you left me with much choice."

A low growl emitted from the back of the spirit-demon's throat.

"There is always a choice," he said. "Do I have your word that if I let your friend go you will not try to escape?"

Katara didn't hesitate.

"I promise."

The torch flared, revealing a glint of gold beneath the creature's hood.

"Then your offer is accepted. The Avatar is free to go."

Like magic the cell door opened and Aang fell forward into Katara's arms.

"Katara," he said, shaking his head into her shoulder as they hugged, "I can't let you do this…"

"You have to Aang." She pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Your life is more important than mine, you know that."

She felt his frame shudder in a silent sob.

"Tell Sokka I love him, okay?" Katara gave Aang one last hug.

"That's enough!" shouted the spirit-demon. "Take him away."

Shadows appeared out of the air, taking on the rough shape of men, and bodily hauled Aang by the arms and forced him up the stairs towards the deck.

Once the boy was out of sight Katara's strength finally left her and she fell back against the cell bars, clutching them to keep herself upright. Aang was safe, and a weight left her chest only to be replaced by the terror she had refused to allow herself to feel before.

"That's enough," the spirit-demon said roughly. "Stand up."

Katara tried, but she found that her legs trembled too much to hold her entire weight.

"I said stand up!" The spirit-demon pulled her to her feet, and for the first time she could really see him. He wasn't as large as Sokka had described him, but he still loomed over her, easily seven feet tall. His skin was bluer than the robes she wore and he wore no shirt, just a pair of too-short pants and a hooded cloak. His shoulders were broad and his arms thick; the fire light highlighted the contours of every power muscle. He could easily crush the skull of any adversary, if he didn't first tear them open with his long, sharp fangs. And there beneath his scowling brows lay gold eyes, glinting brightly.

Before Katara had time to react to the spirit-demon's terrifying appearance she was being roughly shoved up the stairs, back into daylight.

o

So little sun came in through those narrow windows Katara couldn't tell how long she had been waiting. She could have always gone out onto the deck to check the sun's position – she had been given no order that she must stay in this room, just to make herself comfortable while another was prepared for her.

But Katara, as brave as she was, was still shaken by the sudden turn her life had taken. For the first time since Sokka had appeared yesterday evening she was allowing herself to truly take in everything – the danger her friend had been in, the danger she was in now, the horrible possibilities that awaited her. Spirits were unpredictable and dangerous; not many tales were told of their collisions with the physical world that came to a happy ending for the mortals involved.

No, for the time being, Katara would happily sulk in the relative safety of the room she currently occupied.

Once she had stopped crying for long enough to notice, she found that it was, compared to the rest of the ship, a warm and cheery little space. What sunlight flooded in was supplemented by a little fire that was already roaring when she had stepped in. The floor was swept, the corners clear of cobwebs, and a row of books and scrolls filled the shelf above a desk that hosted ink and parchment.

The girl sat up from the neatly made bed she had been crying on for the past however many hours, rubbing at her eyes, and crossed the room to look again at the titles on the shelf. Several scrolls on Pai Sho strategy, a few dry sounding histories on the Earth Kingdoms and Water Tribes, a well-worn book called _The Dao of Tea_. She tried to imagine the type of person such a collection would belong to – it certainly didn't sound like the type of reading a demon from the spirit world would be interested in.

Nothing that she found terrible interesting either, if she was honest, though the book on tea did remind her that she was thirsty, probably from all of the crying she'd done. The Spirit had left her with her bending water, but Katara wasn't so parched that she was thinking of resorting to that; even though bending would do little good against a demon, it was comforting to have her element readily accessible at her side, like a security blanket.

She took the book on tea from the shelf and had begun absently thumbing through it when there was a knock at the door, gentle but efficient. Katara didn't move.

"I am sorry to disturb you, young lady," said a kindly a voice through the door, "But your room has been prepared for you, and I thought you might like some nice tea. It will be waiting for you in the next room over when you are ready."

Katara listened silently as the sound of footsteps faded. She looked down at the page the book was open to - a detailed illustration of a steaming cup of tea.

Cautiously, Katara opened the door to the room assigned to her and was surprised by what she saw. A vase of sunny flowers sat on the stand beside her bed, which was made up with a white and blue bedspread. A small hidden window by the bed was un-shuttered, allowing sunlight to stream into the room unhampered by tinted glass. It looked… nice.

A low table sat in the center of the room, set with tea and tea snacks, along with a lit candle. Katara looked around the room, but saw no one.

Remembering her thirst, she sat before the table and took a sip from the tea cup. It was some of the most delicious tea she had ever had, and she took another long drink.

"I hope the tea is brewed to your satisfaction, it has been a while since I've had a chance to test my art."

Katara, startled, looked up and around the room again but saw no one, save for the little man painted in the garden scene on the tea pot. Surely it hadn't been…? But so many strange things had happened… she was, after all, being held captive aboard a haunted ship by a blue demon who was apparently a good enough host to bring her flowers.

Feeling quite foolish, she hesitantly leaned forward and spoke to the pot.

"Did… did you say that?"

A jolly laugh filled the room.

"No, no, that was me," came the voice, this time clearly not from the tea pot but from somewhere across the table, "I am most sorry, but it has been so long since we have had guests, I sometimes forget."

"Forget…?" Katara asked the air.

"I am afraid that to everyone but my nephew I am invisible – just a disembodied voice. I do hope you will accept my apologies for startling you, my dear, it was not my intention."

"Of, of course," Katara stammered out, not sure where or to whom or what she should be directing her forgiveness.

"Please, do not let me keep you from your tea; you must be thirsty." The voice had such a friendly, comforting way about it –like a kindly grandfather – that the girl found herself feeling more at ease despite herself.

"Thank you," she said taking another sip. "The tea, it's very good."

"I am so glad you enjoy it," said the voice, really sounding as if nothing could have pleased him more. "I am afraid my nephew has no appreciation for the fine art of tea brewing. It is nice to have someone who does."

"Your nephew?" Katara put down her cup. "You don't mean that…"

The voice chuckled again.

"Yes, yes, the blue gentleman you met earlier. I am sorry for his behavior – he has never been very good at meeting new people-" at this Katara couldn't help but to raise her eyebrows in disbelief at such an understatement "-but now it seems I am forgetting my manners as well! Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Iroh."

"Oh, I'm Katara of the Southern Water Tribe," she said, beginning to stick out a hand to shake before hastily retracting it and instead settling on a kind of sitting half-bow, half-curtsy. "It's a pleasure to meet you Iroh."

"The pleasure is likewise Lady Katara."

Katara blushed at the formality.

"Well, it's actually Master Katara, but you can just call me Katara."

"Oh, excuse me," the voice apologized. "Of waterbending, I presume?"

Katara nodded.

"Delightful! It has been long since I have had the opportunity to see a master waterbender in action. I hope you will allow me to watch you practice some time."

"Of course," the girl said, smiling into her tea and taking another sip.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," she said hesitantly after a moment, "But have you… well, have you always been like this? Invisible, I mean?"

She heard a great sigh.

"No," the voice said wistfully, "No, I have not always been invisible, although it does feel like it at times. I was once, years ago, just an ordinary man – though even then I believe that most of my acquaintances would have described me as rather eccentric." Another invisible-belly laugh followed this last statement.

"An ordinary man?" the girl repeated, "Then how did you end up like this? How are you related to that thi-your nephew?"

There was a long silence, and Katara feared she may have offended him, or that he had even left.

"I think, my dear, that that is my nephew's story to tell," he said at long last. "I will tell you this, though – my nephew, despite his rather intimidating appearance, does have a good heart. I just hope that one day someone will be able to convince him of this."

A heavy silence settled over the room as Katara took in the voice's words. Curiosity was slowly replacing fear.

"Now, if you will excuse me, Master Katara, I should go find my nephew; I have a feeling he will be in need of my council right about now. Please, make yourself at home. I put some books on the shelf that I thought you might enjoy, and you have your own private bathroom through this door – I am sorry, I forget. I mean to indicate the one opposite the bed."

Katara almost jumped when the candle that sat on the table suddenly floated upwards, stopping in midair.

"If you are ever wondering where I am, just look for this candle. It is my link between this world and that of the spirits' and I must always keep it with me, so there is no need to worry about my lurking about without your knowledge."

Katara began to protest that of course she wouldn't suspect him of doing such a thing, but was cut off by another deep chuckle from Iroh. The candle floated to the doorway and stopped.

"Dinner will be in a few hours; you'll be called for." The candled bobbed forward and down a little – Katara imagined that Iroh must have been bowing – before floating out into the hall, the door shutting behind it.

o

* * *

><p>AN: Reviews and constructive criticism are extremely welcome. Thank you for reading!


	3. Shyness

A/N: Thank you again to everyone who reviewed! It really makes me feel less stupid about how bad my writing is – I try, but I'm rusty and I don't practice enough and it shows. Knowing some people don't completely hate it makes me feel a lot more motivated to work at it.

Um… so… yeah… romance and stuff. I can't remember ever writing straight romance before, just incidental stuff happening in the background while some other character is flailing around being funny. I feel like I didn't set the mood or tone well enough, but at this point I think the only way I could fix it is to leave it for several months and then come back to it with fresh eyes, so, here it is. The pacing especially feels off at the end, but I'm trying to set stuff up for the next chapter, and bleeeeh.

Okay, enough self-conscious self-critiquing, here's the next chapter!

* * *

><p><strong>Part III :<strong>** Shyness**

o

As Iroh said, that evening around dinnertime Katara was sent for.

She had spent her afternoon reading, the books Iroh left for her being more than enough to keep her attention. There were several firebending scrolls, a reprinting of the memoirs a 200-years dead woman who was apparently widely considered to be the greatest airbender in recorded history, and a particularly interesting book that looked at the four bending disciplines from an anthropological perspective. There was also an anthology of stories titled _Tales from the Spirit World_. A quick look showed Katara that the book held versions of several of her favorite stories from childhood, like "The Ocean's Youngest Daughter" and "The Good Pirate", along with many unfamiliar ones. A smile flitted across her lips as she remembered sitting around the fire on long winter nights, listening Gran Gran retelling local legends she had picked up on her journey across the world.

However Katara wasn't a child anymore, and after her initial perusal she put the book of spirit tales back on the shelf and selected instead anthropological bending study. She was sitting cross legged on the bed, the book laid out in front of her when a scratching sound at the door made her look up.

The scratch came again, this time accompanied by a little chitter. Katara closed the book and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She silently went to the door and pressed her ear against it. There was more chittering, along with several more rapid scratches punctuated by a tiny thud, all sounding as if they were coming from low to the ground. Cautiously, Katara opened the door a crack, looked down, and, seeing what it was, let the door open the rest of the way.

At her door was the most austere rabbit-squirrel she had even seen. The creature swiftly inclined its little grey head, eyed her again, and let out a short, meaningful chitter. Katara gaped.

"Uh… hi?"

The rabbit-squirrel glared – she thought it glared at least, though it seemed an odd thing for it do – and made an impatient motion with one of its forepaws, putting out the light the girls had been reading by, before chittering again. It then turned around and began scampering towards the stairs. For what felt like the tenth time that day Katara refrained from questioning it too much and simply followed.

The rabbit-squirrel led her out onto the deck where there was a table set with dinner for one. As she approached Katara spotted Iroh's candle floating beside it. The rabbit-squirrel scurried up the leg of the chair and unto the top of the headrest where it stood at attention.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Jee," came Iroh's voice. As if by magic a large leechee nut appeared in front of the rabbit-squirrel, who made more chattering sounds as if to say that the entire task had been far beneath him, but took the nut anyway and began the task of cracking the shell.

"Lieutenant Jee?" Katara said, approaching the chair. "That's a cute name."

She had been hoping to win the rabbit-squirrel's favor by complimenting him, but her comment seemed to have the opposite effect because Lieutenant Jee glared at her again before turning back to Iroh and chattering something.

"If you would go to my nephew and keep him company until I return, please, then you may be dismissed," Iroh answered. With a resigned little bow of the head the Lieutenant leaped to the ship's railing and ran off. "Now, Master Katara, please have a seat. I hope you enjoy your meal, though I am afraid you will be dining by yourself tonight."

"Oh," said Katara as she sat down, self-consciously fingering the blue leather bracelet she still wore from the village. "You won't be joining me?"

"No, I am sorry. I believe my nephew needs some… company tonight. And besides, I do not eat. Half in the world of spirits, half in the world of mortals, and I am afraid that my stomach is part of the half that is in the spirit world." He gave a jolly chuckle, his stomach's absence apparently not impairing his belly-laughing abilities.

Katara laughed along with Iroh at his joke, though inside she was thinking how hard it must be for him, having lived this strange half-life for so long. She found herself again wondering what had happened to him, and how it was he was related to the intimidating blue demon-spirit he seemed to so care for.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to my nephew," Iroh said. "Will you be able to find your way back to your room when you are finished or should I send Lieutenant Jee back to escort you?"

Katara winced. "No… no. I think I'll be able to find it myself, please don't bother the, uh, Lieutenant," she answered hastily.

"Very well then," he said. "Please, enjoy your meal. I will see you tomorrow when I bring you your breakfast."

Katara smiled in the general direction of Iroh's voice and thanked him before watching the candle disappear around the tower. She then at her meal in solitude, listening to the cicadas.

o

After being assured by Iroh that she was free to go wherever she liked as long as she stayed within the inlet, Katara spent most of the next day exploring the ship. She saw the water-logged galley (she had before taken an outer door into the tower) filled with flowers and frogs and large gold fish swimming around in the muddy water; she even saw a birds' nest up in the rafters. She went all the way up to the observation deck where she saw dozens of beautiful roses, the undamaged versions of the one Aang had picked for her and she had found in her brother's fist. She explored the other floors of the command tower, discovering a couple rooms that were locked and even more that were covered in dust and cobwebs, unvisited for years. The room she was staying in along with the one she had waited in yesterday – which, remembering the delicious tea and the book about tea and putting one and one together she assumed to be Iroh's – seemed to be the only ones habitable, save perhaps those that were locked.

After having explored everywhere above deck Katara started to go below, but didn't go farther than opening the door that led down. She didn't have a candle or torch with her, and, remembering that her only experience with the place had been far from a pleasant one, she decided not to bother to go in search of a means of light but to instead stay above, in the sun. She couldn't imagine there would be much down there save a rat infested engine room, cells, and dank bunks.

That night she again ate dinner alone, though Iroh kept her company and entertained with stories of his adventure pre-invisibility. Katara honestly didn't mind. Iroh, disconcerting lack of visibility aside, was very good company. And besides, barring surly rabbit-squirrels, she could only assume that the only other possible dinner guest would be the blue demon-spirit and she wasn't exactly keen on meeting him again.

When she returned to her room that night the fading flowers by her bed had been replaced with fresh ones. The next day she thanked Iroh, assuming her had been behind it. However, he seemed confused as to what she was talking about, and assured her that he had had nothing to do with it.

Katara ate dinner alone again that evening, and for every evening after. And every night when she went back to her room to sleep there was a fresh bouquet by her bed.

This didn't change until one night about a week into her strange captivity when Katara went out to the main deck around the usual time for dinner to see someone else at the table – someone very much not invisible, and much, much larger and bluer than a rabbit-squirrel.

Katara's heart dropped to her stomach – it was the demon spirit, who she had not seen since her first day aboard. His back was to her, and for a moment she considered turning tail and running back to her room, but what would be this use? She knew she wouldn't be lucky enough to live forever on his ship and never come in contact with him

Leaving without the spirit-demon's knowledge she was there was out of the question anyway, it would seem, because a second later he jerked his head in her direction as if having heard a sound. Seeming startled by her appearance he hastily stood up, knocking over his too small chair in the process.

"Master Katara," he said in his deep, raspy voice. This was followed by a stiff but practiced bow.

It took the waterbender a moment to realize that her mouth was open, and she quickly closed it. She swallowed thickly around the lump of apprehension in her throat and concentrated on keeping her breathing even.

"Hello," she said.

The spirit blinked at this, as if it wasn't what he was expecting. Katara blinked back, it having not been what she was expecting either. Just what she had expected herself to say though she didn't know; proper protocol when greeting your captor from another plane of existence hadn't been something she had ever expected to need to be familiar with. Maybe she should have taken a closer look at the spirit tales…

After several more silent heart beats passed, the spirit spoke again.

"Don't you want to eat?" he asked roughly, indicating with an impatient fling of his hand the table set for two. Annoyed, Katara opened her mouth to snap back that no, she didn't want to eat, that she had suddenly lost her appetite. However she quickly thought better of it, shut her mouth, walked to her place, and sat down primly in her chair.

Staring at her the entire time as if he didn't trust the girl enough to take his eyes off her, as if _she_ were dangerous, the spirit righted his chair and sat down across from her. Never one to be so frightened that she was willing to back down from a challenge, Katara met his stare with one of her own; out of the two of them she certainly had more reason to be wary, after all.

The spirit demon was the first to look away, clenching his fists where they rested on the table and blowing a short puff of steam from his nose. Katara chalked it up as a win and turned her attention to her dumplings, which were rapidly turning cold. As expected she had little appetite, not with the 7-foot demon spirit sitting feet away. She made a show of nibbling at her food anyway, though she mostly just pushed it around her plate.

Katara glanced up to see that the spirit was staring at her again. She scowled back down at her plate while taking a large bite. Too large, given how spicy tonight's meal happened to be. Her eyes began to water and she grabbed for the class of watering, quickly downing several large gulps. Once the crisis was averted she looked back up at the spirit, who was still staring at her with no discernible expression. He hadn't touched his food. Now that Katara thought about it, she didn't even know if demons ate, or if they did, if they ate the kind of food mortals ate.

She decided to find out.

"What's wrong? Don't you like spicy dumplings?"

He started at the unexpected question. He then looked down at his food and sniffed.

"It's been a while," he said in a low voice, pushing his plate away. "A while since I've had food… like this."

Katara decided to press her luck. "Food like what? This spicy? With rice? _Cooked_?"

The spirit spirit-demon blinked at her again before answering. "Yes."

Katara looked back at her own plate. She took a few more bites of rice before putting down her chopsticks and standing up from her chair.

"I think I'm ready to retire for the night," she began, but before she could say good night and take her leave the spirit had stood up as well, this time taking care not to knock over his chair.

"I'll walk you to your door." It wasn't an offer or a request or even a command, but simply a statement. The girl nodded stiffly, once again having to concentrate to keep her breathing even.

They walked to the command tower, Katara trying to keep her distance without making it too obvious that she was trying to keep her distance. Once they got to the stairs she fell back behind, since it wasn't wide enough to accommodate them both side by side, not with spirit-demon's size. He glanced back at her every now and again, lit by the dim glow of the fire he held in one his large paw like hand. The last time she went up these stairs with him he had been behind her, all but pushing her as they climbed.

At last they reached her room. Katara quickly said her goodnights, avoiding looking at the spirit-demon directly as the fire's glow traced eerie patterns on his already eerie face. She quickly opened the door to escape to her room.

"Wait," the spirit stopped her. One hand on the inside handle, half of her body shielded by the door, Katara turned and looked up at him. Blood hammered in her ears.

From seemingly nowhere he produced a bouquet in the hand not holding the fire. "Fresh flowers. For your room."

Katara stared dumbly at the flowers in his hand, and then looked up at his face. It was hard to tell in the light, but she could have sworn his cheeks looked like they had flushed purple.

She took the offered flowers and stared at them. After a long pause she blinked and shook away her shocked daze before breathing a thank you, but when she looked up the spirit had vanished.

o

The next night at dinner Katara felt strangely at ease, even with the hulking presence of the spirit. Something in the way he had looked as he handed her the flowers the night before made her think that he might be almost as afraid of her as she was of him, though it was hard to imagine why he would be. _He_ was holding her prisoner, _he_ was easily twice her size, _he_ was a spirit demon with who knows what horrifying demon spirit powers. But for whatever reason he apparently felt the need to win her over, and this knowledge left her feeling relatively safe for the time being.

"So," she began between bites "I realized that I don't know what I should call you."

The spirit looked up from his plate where he had speared a piece of meat with one of his claws and grunted in confusion.

Katara pressed on. "What name would you like me to call you by?"

The spirit's brow knitted in consternation and he moved a hand his scratch his head before remember that meat was impaled on one of his digits. With a quick a motion he shook it back onto the plate and then rubbed the back of his neck uneasily.

The waterbender bit the insides of her cheek. She had thought, incorrectly apparently, that this would be the easiest way to start a conversation

"Do you _have_ a name?" she asked

The spirit dropped his hands to his lap. "Not really… not anymore," he muttered to his hands. He looked defeated, the moonlight glinting silvery off of his white horns

"Oh," she said softly, taking in his defeated posture. "Well, I've been just calling you the Spirit when talking to your uncle. Is that okay?"

The demon looked up slightly and nodded.

"Alright then," she said, with a reassuring smile. "Spirit."

The Spirit did his best to return the smile, and Katara to her credit only found the fangy grimace a little frightening.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Katara was out on the deck bending one afternoon a couple of days later. She had been displaying one of the newer Southern techniques for Iroh before he had taken his leave, explaining cryptically that he needed to go check on something.

With no one around to impress, she sat back and entertained herself by playing with a thin stream of water, writing words and drawing pictures in the air. A circle, a heart, a five point star. An arrow and Sokka's boomerang. She wrote the characters for her name, Kah-Tar-Rah. Then Sokka's and then Aang's, carefully forming every stroke before it disappeared as the water moved to form the next.

She wiped at the tears forming in her eyes, letting the water drop in a puddle. She sniffed and looked behind her where she sat against the ships railing, towards the spot far in the distance where she last saw Sokka. It was only a couple of weeks ago, but it felt like so much longer. Where were they? Has Aang found an earthbending teacher? Was he still practicing his waterbending?

Would she ever see them again?

Katara turned her attention back to the water, picking it up again. She had never been very good at the more artistic side of bending, having been far more keen on fighting and other more practical techniques, but she tried now to form a miniature Appa out of the globe of water she held in the air. After some effort she succeeded in producing something with six-ish legs and a tail that looked vaguely bison-like and, satisfied with her creation, she set about making it fly about. Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she tried for a loop de loop and managed to do it without letting the water lose its form on the first try.

She laughed out loud at her success and looked around to see if Iroh had come back and saw, or maybe even that stuffy rabbit-squirrel. What she saw instead was the Spirit, watching quietly at some distance. Katara quickly streamed the water back into her pouch; Iroh had given her permission to bend, but she didn't know how the Spirit felt about her practicing a martial art when she was technically a prisoner.

The Spirit looked down at his feet and shuffled them as if he was the one who had been caught doing something he shouldn't. "You don't have to stop," was all he said before quickly disappearing below deck.

Katara sat in silence for a moment, feeling a breeze signaling the eminent arrival of the mild fall characteristic of the part of the Earth Kingdom, before picking up her water again.

o

Dinner that night was mostly a silent affair, as it usually was. By this time the Spirit was actually eating the meal before him, partly with his chopsticks and partly with his fingers. If Katara was honest with herself it was actually kind of endearing, though she would never say so aloud. She was sure if the Spirit would take as much offense to being implied to be 'cute' as Lieutenant Jee did.

After having looked at Katara through most of dinner as if trying to decide whether or not to say something, the Spirit spoke.

"Earlier today, when you were bending, what was it you were trying to make?"

The girl blushed. "Oh, that. It was, well… it was _supposed_ to be a flying bison. I'm not very good at that kind of thing…"

"No," he rushed. "No, it… it looked like a bison. I thought it was probably a bison, I just wasn't sure."

Another wave of silence washed over them. Katara thought she heard a frog croak in the distance, followed by the hoot of some type of owl.

The Spirit cleared his throat. "Would you like to see something? Some firebending, I mean?"

Katara raised her eyebrows at the offer. Even though she had witnessed him manipulate flame, it had never occurred to her that this technically made him a _firebender_. Such descriptors didn't seem to apply to spirits or demons the way they did to humans.

Just a little hesitantly, she nodded. "Yes, I would."

The Spirit scooted his chair back and turned a little away from the table but remained sitting. He glanced at Katara out of the corner of his eye, seeming a little nervous, before concentrating on the large blue hands he held out before him, tilted slightly towards each other. A tiny flame appeared floating between them and slowly it grew upwards, a thin tendril of fire.

Katara leaned forward and, almost like she was seeing time sped up, she watched the birth of a flower bud that slowly grew and bloomed to reveal a rose like those that grew in the observation deck. She was entranced by the dancing fire petals, ever moving and changing but always keeping to the form of a flower. A quickly stolen glance at the Spirit revealed that he was in deep concentration, the strain of the effort it took to coax the flames into cooperation obvious on his face.

The waterbender looked back to the flower and watched as it finished blooming until one by one flaming petals began to detach themselves and die out as the fell away. Eventually only the center of the rose was left. Starting at the bottom the stem began to disappear, travelling up into the center until again all that was left was a tiny little flame. This the Spirit gently closed his large hands around, snuffing it out.

Katara grinned and clapped her hands while the Spirit breathed heavily with the exertion such intricate bending had taken. She had never seen firebending like that, and with the volatile nature of the element she hadn't known that it was even possible to coax such fine shapes from it.

"How did you learn how to do that?" she asked, forgetting for a moment who, or, what she was talking to. It didn't matter, though, because he didn't seem to think it strange or forward for a human to be asking for a spirit to reveal his secrets.

"Observation, practice," he answered, seeming pleased with her reaction to his display. "My mother always liked the more artistic side of firebending, and I've had little else to do over the past few years."

His mention of his mother surprised her. Though Katara knew the Spirit had an uncle, or at least someone who claimed to be his uncle, she had for some reason never thought that he might have parents as well. She studied him in the moonlight; she studied the lines of his face and the gold of his eyes, momentarily lost in the mystery.

"Well," she said at last with a smile, "I bet she's very impressed – that was amazing."

To her dismay the Spirit's face fell. "I haven't seen my mother in a very long time, and I don't think I ever will again," he said quietly.

The girl wanted to reach out touch him. "I'm so sorry."

The Spirit shook his head. "It's okay. She disappeared so long ago; it was in another life time."

Another long moment passed. Barely thinking about what she was doing, Katara stood up and moved her chair so she was sitting beside him.

"Do you think you could show me something else?" she asked, looking up into face.

The Spirit smiled softly, and this time Katara didn't find it frightening at all.

o

The Spirit began to show himself more often during the day after that.

One morning after breakfast Iroh offered to teach Katara how to play Pai Sho. She agreed and began to follow his candle upstairs where he had left his board and tiles the last time he tried to convince his nephew to play.

"He is actually a very good player when he puts his mind to it," Iroh claimed as they left the hallway. "He can just be so impatient sometimes, but he is learning."

An image of the Spirit hunched over a Pai Sho bored, a tile between his massive fingers, deep in thought over his next move flashed through Katara's mind and she bit back a laugh.

Iroh paused when he got to the next level. "Now let me think," he said much too loudly, his voice bouncing off of the metal walls and ceiling. "In which room did I leave it?"

A door swung open. "Uncle! What did I say about bothering me when I'm…?" He trailed off when he saw Katara

"Oh, hello, Nephew. I did not know you were up here," Iroh lied smoothly. "I was going to teach Master Katara here how to play the fine game of Pai Sho. But, oh dear, it seems I have just remembered something very important I must attend to. I am so sorry Katara." The girl raised her eyebrow at this.

"But here is an idea!" the invisible uncle went on, "Nephew, why don't you play with her? I am sure she would not mind the substitution, would you, my dear?"

Katara smiled in amusement and shook her head. "No, I wouldn't mind."

"Then it is settled. I have also just remembered that my Pai Sho board and tiles are actually in my room, silly me. In my old age my memory must be going. You remember where I keep them, do you not Nephew?"

The Spirit nodded.

"Splendid!" Iroh said, moving towards the stairs. Katara stepped aside and watched the candle float by. "I will see you later this evening – enjoy your game."

When he had gone Katara looked at the Spirit with a smile and shrugged, before starting down the stairs. The Spirit, with a huff, shut the door to the room he was in and followed. Once in Iroh's room he looked around for the Pai Sho board, grumbling the entire time about something that had to do with meddling old men, before locating it in a trunk packed neatly at the top. Katara couldn't repress a giggle at how out of the place the hulking presence of the Spirit looked in an old man's room, clutching a bag of game tiles.

"I was just remembering a funny joke I heard once," she lied when the he looked at her.

They went out onto the deck to play, finding a card table and two chairs waiting for them. Though the Spirit stumbled over his words and frequently backtracked, having forgot to mention an exception to a rule or a special kind of jump, it didn't take long for the girl to understand the game, and soon they were playing.

Katara was staring intently at the board, chin resting on her fist, carefully considering her next move, when the Spirit abruptly spoke.

"Your hair looks pretty today," he said quickly.

Taken aback, Katara completely lost her concentration. She felt at the back of her head and ran her hand down the simple braid she wore. "Really?" she said, scrunching her nose, holding the tail of her braid over her shoulder. "This is how I always wear my hair.

The Spirit flushed purple. "Well, it always does, I mean. Looks pretty. Your hair, that is." Katara smiled a little, tilting her head and raising and eyebrow; the Spirit rushed on. "Not that the rest of you doesn't – it does! All of you is pretty all of the time!"

"Thank you," Katara quickly interrupted before the poor thing could continue and embarrass himself further. "I really appreciate the complement." She smiled brightly at him before going back to contemplating the board.

The Spirit relaxed slightly, relieved. "You're welcome."

o

Katara sat outside on the deck, enjoying the cool weather. She had been trying to read _Tales of the Spirit World,_ but she had long past forgotten it and was instead absently playing with her water as she took in the scenery.

It was strange; though she could see that up out of what was once an inlet the leaves on the deciduous trees were beginning to yellow, everything around the ship was as green as ever. The wisteria lilies in the galley continued to bloom, though it was far past their season, and the birds that made their nests near or on the ship didn't leave with all the other birds. Katara could only assume that it was somehow related to the ship's magic, the same magic that made Iroh invisible and kept her fed and clothed. She sometimes felt an eerie, untouched stillness on afternoons like this when she was usually left to her own devices until her nightly dinner with the Spirit.

The waterbender sighed, a familiar ache pricking at her chest. "I miss you guys," she said aloud.

Struck with an idea she got out of her chair and sat cross legged on the ground, streaming more water from a nearby pitcher. She froze the water into an oblong lump in front her and set to work, unfreezing then moving then refreezing parts, trying to get the ice to look like what she had in her mind.

It wasn't working, at least not as well as she wanted it to.

Frustrated, Katara turned the entire thing into snow and crushed it with her bare hand. It shouldn't be this difficult!

She heard someone behind her and twisted around to see who it was. It was the Spirit, shyly stepping forward.

"You should try making something you can see," he suggested.

Katara cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Without saying a word the Spirit walked away and disappeared into the galley, returning a few minutes later holding a singly wisteria lily blossom. He strode over and sat across from her, managing to get his large legs into a cross legged position after some effort. Even sitting he loomed over her, so the Spirit stooped over as he offered her the flower.

"Try sculpting this," he said in his soft, deep rasp. "It's easier if you can see it. It takes me a lot of practice, a lot of time just looking at something, before I get it right."

Katara took the flower from his hand before looking up into his gold eyes. "I guess that makes sense," she said, and looked back down and started observing the flower from different angles. "Do you think you can hold it for me while I try?"

The Spirit nodded and she handed the flower back to him. After some time and three proclamations that she was giving up Katara finally ended up with and almost perfect duplicate of the flower in ice. The waterbender crowed in victory before challenging the Spirit to make one as good. He accepted the challenge and created one out of fire with Katara admitted was very good, but she insisted that her ice flower was closer to the original. The Spirit protested, saying that it isn't fair to compare the two because they were working with different materials, and it's more difficult with fire because it's a living element, to which Katara countered that water was just as alive as fire and that he was just making up excuses. This devolved into a game of bending HORSE, each challenging the other in turn to duplicate a trick using the opposing element.

This lasted until nightfall when they grudgingly called it a tie and abandoned their game for dinner.

o

"Katara," the Spirit said the next day towards the end of the evening. "A messenger hawk came with this a few days ago." He had been oddly preoccupied all night and now looked strangely guilty as he handed her a scroll.

Breathlessly Katara unrolled it, revealing a letter in her brother's familiar chicken scratch. She almost cried at the sight, unable to get past "Dear Katara" before the ink began to blur as her eyes welled up.

The next thing the Spirit knew Katara had flown out of her seat and was hugging him. "Thank you," she said, clutching the letter to her chest as she pulled away.

The Spirit shook his head. "No," he said, unable to look her in the eye. "I should have given it to you as soon as it came. I'm sorry."

Katara bit her lip and looked at him for a moment. She then set the scroll down on the table and took one of his blue hands in both of her brown ones, it dwarfing them. "Even still, thank you," she said softly, tilting her head to meet his eyes.

Gently, the Spirit brought his other hand up and cupped her two tiny ones in his. He was in awe.

o

The next morning after she had finished breakfast Katara was surprised with a knock on her door, one that was hurried and excited, very different from the soft little raps characteristic of Iroh.

She opened the door and was even more surprised to see the large blue figure of the Spirit standing in her doorway, one arm held behind his back.

"Would you like to write back to your brother?" he said without prompting.

It took Katara a moment to recover enough from the improbability of his appearance to process and respond to his statement.

"Yes, of course, I'd love to write back to him," she said, dazed, "But, even if the messenger hawk that brought the letter is still here, or if there was another one sitting around, I'd have no idea where to send it. I don't know where they are now, or for how long or where they'll be going."

Katara was even further surprised to see the Spirit smile widely, fangs gleaming.

"I have something for you." He took his arm from behind his back and held out his hand. Katara took a step forward to get a closer look; lying in his cupped hand was a ball of fluff about the size of her fist. She looked up at the Spirit, one eyebrow raised, and he nodded at her in her encouragement. Skeptically, Katara took one finger and poked gently at the fluff ball; it was warm and breathing, and the fluff was actually feathers. Curiosity roused, she stroked the feathers with her fingers. Awoken from its slumber, the creature uncurled itself, opening and stretching its wings and yawning big with its little beak before curling back up and going back to sleep.

Katara looked back up at the Spirit. "What is it?" she asked in a half-whisper, not wanting to disturb it again.

"A catowl," the Spirit also whispered. "She's from a litter that was found below the ship. My uncle says they're touched by the spirit world and if they're loyal to you they'll take a letter to anyone anywhere, even if you don't know where the person is."

Katara's face lit with understanding and she gently scooped the animal out of his hand, holding it to her chest with both hands. The little thing didn't even open its eyes, but just curled right back up with a soft coo.

The Spirit went on. "She's still a little too young to make any deliveries, but in about a month she should be old enough."

The girl pursed her lips. A month? She'd have to watch herself or then her letter would be too heavy the catowl to carry.

o

Katara needn't have worried, because the catowl grew rapidly, and by the end of that month she had grown three times her original size.

Over that time Katara continued to have dinner every night with the Spirit. Sometimes in the day they played Pai Sho, and he would even join her and Iroh for tea every so often. She continued to practice making tiny ice sculptures, graduating to more complicated flowers and then to animals like mocking frogs and rabbit-squirrels. She even made a duplicate of the catowl, which she hd named Kala. It was so realistic that Kala puffed out her feathers and hissed in alarm when she first saw it.

The waterbender almost began to feel at home on the ship, but as kind as Iroh was and as different from her original impression of him the Spirit turned out to be, she couldn't forget that she was a prisoner here, even if all that held her was her word and knowledge of the consequences that often came from breaking one's word to spirits.

At long last a month passed, and the catowl was old enough to deliver Katara's letter.

"This is for Sokka and Aang," she said, tying the scroll to one of Kala's talons. "You can give it to either one of them." It was nearly winter now and Katara felt the nip of cold through her long sleeves as evening fell and the first stars began to appear.

"You'll be able to find them, won't you?" she asked the catowl worriedly. "I've told you all about them. Sokka looks a lot like me, with brown skin and blue eyes, and Aang is bald with a blue arrow on his head, and they travel with this big white bison named Appa…"

Kala ruffled her feathers and hooted, as if to say don't worry, I can find them. Katara took a bit of cloth from her pocket and unwrapped a strip of meat, which she fed to the catowl.

"Alright, Kala, off you go then. Be safe."

Kala ate the strip in a single gulp before taking off, quickly disappearing in the fading light.

o

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><p>AN: I have this painting that sort of accompanies the story that I was hoping to have done by the time I posted this chapter, but my cat stepped on my computer and I lost a bunch of work on it and I haven't felt like working on it since then. Hopefully by the next chapter I'll have finished it.

I hope you enjoyed it!


	4. Curses and Letters

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long! I have excuses for it being delayed, but none good enough for 4 months of delay.

Run down : I ran out of my anxiety/depression medication and it was a month before I saw (and got lectured for not making an appointment sooner) by my doctor. So I was really nauseous and groggy from withdrawal for a couple of weeks, and then after that I was just, surprise surprise, anxious and depressed (pro-tip, don't go off medication without a doctor's supervision/approval). And then by the time I was back on my medicine and feeling better it was the middle of the holidays, and then we moved, and then I started back at school and jumped into writing a play set in Imperial Rome, based on an historical anecdote mentioned by a single ancient historian (writing about ancient Rome is hard – I would be surprised you could see historical information oozing out of my ears while I sleep, I've read so many books about it over the last couple months)

To be honest though most of it was just laziness and the difficulty of working back up the motivation for the project once I had lost that initial momentum, and for that I have no excuse. Also general self-consciousness about it because the tone for this chapter is so far from my comfort zone of light, snippy comedy and witty banter (my play is pretty far out of the comfort zone, too, so I guess I'm all about diving into the deep end recently). Rereading and editing what I wrote months ago, it's actually a lot better than I remembered, which of course just makes me more nervous about it, so there you go.

But this fic is definitely not abandoned and it will be finished! I know how disappointing it is when a fic you're reading is abandoned, so I won't do that, especially since this isn't a long one.

Anyway, I hope it was sort of worth the wait!

* * *

><p><strong>Part IV : Curses and Letters<strong>

o

_Dear Sokka,_

_At the time I'm writing this it has been three weeks since I last saw you and Aang and will be another three weeks before I am even able to send this letter. Let me start right off by saying that I'm fine, all things considered. I've experienced so many strange things since being on this ship. I still don't know why I'm here – I mean, I know _why_ I'm here, but I don't know why I'm wanted here. I don't know why a demon from the spirit world would rather have some waterbending girl rather than the Avatar. I don't know why he would want anyone at all, unless just for company. _

_What I'm trying to say is, I don't think there's any reason for you to worry about my safety for now – I've been treated, to my surprise, with nothing but kindness. I eat well, I've been given warmer clothes as the weather's gotten colder, I'm even allowed to practice my waterbending whenever I want. The only thing really missing is you guys, and of course freedom. _

_I'm counting on you to keep Aang on track and to make sure he doesn't get too distracted from his training. I don't think there's much more I could have really taught him, but he needs to concentrate and practice more… Maybe whoever you find to teach Aang earthbending will also be able to teach him some discipline, haha._

_But seriously, please don't worry, I think I'm going to be fine. The Spirit is very different from what I imagined…_

Tizah, the Earth Kingdom spirit designated patron craftsmen and outcasts and drowning victims, among other things, never actually took any revenge on the boy for stealing the blue and white mask that had been left in tribute on the steps of his altar, an altar that had once, years ago, been a home.

The story went that a heartbroken young cobbler whose wife had disappeared over a year before gave refuge one night to an old beggar woman lashed with ugly burn scars weaved like clumsy spider webs up and down her arms. Though he had little, living in one of the poorer districts, he offered what food he could and gave her his bed for the night while he slept in the corner on a pile of rage. When he awoke the old crone was gone, leaving no sign of her existence but a single flower– a wisteria lily, his long missing wife's favorite flower. That very day a neighbor who worked as a butcher confessed in a sudden fit of guilt to having drowned the man's wife to keep her silent after she threatened to reveal that he was cheating his customers. The scarred woman had been Tizah in one of his many disguises, and to reward the man for his generosity and hospitality the spirit had seen to it that his wife's murderer was brought to justice.

This was nearly a hundred years ago. Since then the story had spread and morphed into legend and the tiny one room house into an altar. Supplicants left miniatures and personal belongings in hopes that Tizah would look after their passed loved ones in the spirit world; they left sweets and spirits in hopes that Tizah would see to it that they would at last find somewhere to call home; they left samples of their craft in hopes that Tizah would bring them good fortune and wealthy patrons.

The city Yaojing Shen was known across the Earth Kingdom for such mystical encounters and the followers of many cults made it a point to travel though on their pilgrimages. Nestled between water and forest, the city's economy was based as much on this religious tourism as on what little shipping trade came through the narrow inlet. The fish went untouched for they were solely for Daku Tam, the water demon, and the woods were never encroached upon for they were the home of the Nameless Vagrant. Several dozen spirits and deities and demons had staked out territory throughout the city, and the air was always heavy with incense and faith.

And the aroma of some of the choicest tea blends in the southern Earth Kingdom, at least according to whatever little bird the boy's uncle had been speaking to. Really, the old man could be so infuriatingly dotty.

The boy had as little patience for the art of tea brewing as he had faith. While his uncle dallied about sampling teas, the boy trudged through the streets on his own, the hood of his cloak hiding his scar as well as the sneer he didn't bother holding back as backwater peasants haggled with merchants over meats and sweets, flowers and perfumes, eager to procure an offering at a reasonable price so they could throw it away on fickle spirits that would spit on them as soon as bless. The Fire Nation had an official state religion, and the sages diligently followed centuries of tradition in offering prayers to Agni and the lesser gods, but no educated citizen took it to heart anymore – it was theater and spectacle, nothing more, and the boy, educated by the finest tutors in the world, was no exception. He once listened eagerly to foreign servants as they whispered of the exotic spirits from their native lands, but that was a life time ago. Back then he was a baby who knew nothing of world and its cruelty.

The boy came upon the house of Tizah when he turned down a quiet side street, seeking to escape the bustle of the market and the stench of the crowd. There was a time that the altar saw scores of supplicants a day and its steps overflowed with gifts and bribes, but those days were long past. The arrival of new gods and the creation of others had overshadowed the spirit decades ago. Now the stonework crumbled and the plaster rotted in neglect, and only the passing vagabond or the displaced orphan or, more rarely, a craftsman down on her luck would come to leave an offering and a prayer for better days.

Leaving behind the noise, the boy trailed down the side street, dragging his feet and kicking aside pebbles and dust as he approached the forsaken altar at the end of the way. After the bright colors of the market the dingy alley seemed a wash of grey, making the flash of ultramarine resting against the steps impossible to miss.

_I'm sending this with a catowl that the Spirit gave me – they're very rare and very special, touched by the spirits, so be nice to her! And feed her some meat before you send her off again. I know it's asking a lot of you, parting with your beloved food, but that way she'll be sure to bring your letter back to me. She's very loyal to people who feed her, kind of like you._

_I miss you so much – you, Aang, Appa, Momo – all of you!_

L_ove,_

_ Katara_

His uncle could have warned him of the consequences that came from dishonoring the spirits in such a way, but the boy never listened to him back then. The old man was always speaking in riddles and proverbs, and what does a thirteen year old boy care for esoteric words about loss and strength and hidden beauty when all he knows has just been ripped away?

So when he saw that mask, two sticks of nearly depleted incense glowing in each eye socket and he felt the bile in his stomach churn at its taunting white grin, and then read the inscription above the stoop, "Dedicated to Tizah, protector of outcast," and felt his resentment boil, he didn't think twice. He snatched up the mask, knocking the incense aside carelessly, and returned its glare. The longer he looked the more it seemed to mock him, and soon the wooden edges were biting into his fingers where he gripped it with enough force to snap in half a shoddier piece.

His boys good cheek burned and his pulse quickened – in hindsight he couldn't explain why he was so affected, but when he heard a faint cackle in the back of his mind followed by soft footsteps turning down the alley he shoved the mask under his arm and ran between the old house and the abandoned shop next to it and into the woods without a glance behind.

He ran deep into the forest, away from the water, the realm of Tizah, and where the ship his father had "gifted" him was docked. He ran until his leg muscles burned as hot as his cheeks and until the sweat from his brow mixed with his angry tears. A little more of his rage seeped from his bones with every smack of his shoes against the leaf strewn ground, and at last he came to a stop. The trees crowded around him, their branches dripping shadows in the evening sun, and he slumped against an impossibly thick pine and panted for breath for several minutes, the mask momentarily forgotten, dangly loosely in his hand at his side.

But when he did finally look at it again the anger came back in an instant. With a flick of his wrist he chucked the mask at a rotting log before letting his legs slide out from under him, pushing dead pine needles with his feet, and hitting the ground with a heavy thud. His head lulled forward, eyes closed, and he let out a slow breath through his teeth, trying in vain to control his emotions.

When the boy again looked up he saw the mask leaning upright against the log as if it had been carefully placed by a reverent worshipper, white grin glowing in the low light of dusk.

_Dear Sokka,_

_I am so happy to hear that you've found Aang an Earthbending teacher! She must be very powerful to be as skilled as you say so young. She's really blind? Three months ago I would have found that very hard to believe, but now... well, I supposed anything really is possible. But I am sure that she can't possibly be any more stubborn or annoying than you are, so play nice! _

_There's something strange going on here, Sokka, but I can't figure out what. Iroh won't say a word and the Spirit… whenever I start to ask about what this place is and why he's here he goes silent and sullen. I don't believe I'm in any danger, but I'm still afraid to press the subject…_

"What are you looking at?" the boy snarled at the mask. He tore off his hood and pointed to the angry scar that dominated the left side of his face. "Are you looking at this?"

The mask continued its silent, grinning laugh.

"You stupid piece of shit, you don't know anything. My _father_ did this to me!" The boy stood up and stalked forward. "He burned off half my face and banished me, and now I'm alone! Unwanted, unloved!" He dropped to his knees in front of the mask and took it once again in his hands. "You think it's funny, don't you? You think it's funny that I look like this now, that everywhere I go people look at me with pity and disgust. That I'll never be allowed to go home. That I'll never be loved." The boy choked on these words as tears welled up and began to fall onto the blue and white mask he clutched before him. "I used to be a prince, and now I'm no one..."

"Such self-pity," came a sly voice. The boy straightened and whipped around but saw no one. He scrambled to his feet, taking one hand from the mask and readying his fire.

"Who's there!" he cried, trying to make his voice deeper. He was answered with a slinky, simpering laugh coming from just behind his good ear.

"No one," teased the voice. "No one, just like you." The boy could almost feel little puffs of breath tickling his ear, making the hairs on the back of neck stand up.

"What do you want?" he said. His voice shook despite his best efforts.

That laugh again. It sent chills down his spine as a breeze blew through his hair

"Why, I want to _help _you, dear child."

As she spoke the voice moved in front of him and the mask rose from his hand as if of its own volition and floated at eye level before him.

"You're a spirit," the boy breathed, backing up he tripped over the rotting the log.

"I'm the _goddess_ of this forest and the protector of the gracious," she hissed. The mask floated forwards, looming over him where he was sprawled on ground. "And the only things I hate more than thieves hiding among my trees are self-pitying, selfish little brats. You should have known better than to come here." It was truly dark by now and the thick canopy blocked out the stars and moon; the only light to be seen came from the mask, glowing now solely with magic.

"I however know everything about you, _Prince Zuko_. You, with your doting uncle, think you are unloved and alone? You, with your wealth and your freedom, think you are the most wretched of creatures? I have no patience for such unearned self-pity and you will be punished for your thanklessness."

_I worry about you two, to be honest. I can take care of myself, but I'm not always sure about you guys. I guess I am as much of a mom as you always accused me of being, and now I'm at a loss without anyone to nag. Promise to take care of Aang, and take care of yourself, too._

_ Love,_

_ Katara_

Nearly seven years.

That' how long it had been before she came, since he had seen a human, since he had been human. There's the crew, transformed to beasts – birds and rabbit squirrels and koi fish, sustained by the same magic trapping him here – but they can't speak and most of them have gone too wild by now to even attempt to engage in human-like behavior. All accept Lieutenant Jee, though even he has lately taken to spending nearly all his time burying and digging up nuts. Unlike the water tribe girl the Spirit could see his uncle, but only as a shadow, a shade, a reflection, half in and half out of the spirit world as the old man was. This girl was flesh and blood, warm and soft.

And she was a _girl_.

Uncle Iroh understood the spirit world in ways few men did, saved from the fate of the rest of the crew by his prior familiarity with it, and the Spirit had to come to respect his wisdom as the years passed and his temper cooled.

"This is your chance, Prince Zuko," the old man said, "If you can gain the trust and love of this girl the curse may be broken."

"But Uncle," the Spirit had protested. "Look at me. Who could possible love me?"

"I love you, my nephew."

"Uncle…"

"You do not give yourself enough credit," Iroh insisted. "You are a wonderful young man with a good heart - just be yourself and trust that she will see through to the true you."

"But what if the true me is no more deserving of love than my outer form?"

"Do not think like that, nephew! You know it is not true."

_Dear Aang,_

_Sokka's sick? Please don't try to hide what's going on from me. If he isn't writing me himself it must be serious, don't lie. I need to know the truth…_

The thing is she's beautiful, in a way that makes him feel maybe not quite beautiful but at the very least not ugly, and maybe there's a little glimmer of something behind the fangs and scars that she, so beautiful through and through, can sense, can see, can draw out like a magnet draws a magnet.

In short, there was more at stake now than just a curse.

Though it was well into winter the weather remained mild enough to be pleasant outside. The flora on the ship, for its part, continued to flourish as if it were the peak of summer, unaffected by the cold or the fewer hours of sunlight, though Katara could see out beyond the circle of enchantment that the deciduous trees were bare of leaves. It was still chilly at night even aboard the ship, but not chilly enough to interrupt her nightly meal with the Spirit.

The deck was lit with lanterns that seemed to float against the darkness and the waxing three-quarters moon was just making its way over the tree tops. It was a beautiful night, as most nights were aboard the ship.

Katara ate in silence, stirring her rice absently with her chopsticks.

"Is something wrong?" the Spirit asked at last, her having not spoken a word all evening.

The girl started, torn from her thoughts. "What? No, nothing.." she shook her head.

"It's just that you seem … pensive." He scowled to himself over his word choice – it sounded so overly formal and awkward.

Katara giggled behind her hand at his discomfit before remembering what she had been thinking about and sobering.

"It's…" she took in a breath but then let it out and slumped her shoulders. "It's nothing. Nothing you should worry about." She smiled faintly and looked back down at where he hand rested next to her plate before returning to her food.

The Spirit frowned and watched as she raised a bite of rice to her lips and chewed.

"Even so," he began, "I would like it if you shared it with me." He paused before rushing to amend, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I would just like it if you did, because I…"

She was looking at him now with her clear blue eyes, waiting for him to continue. The Spirit looked down and coughed sheepishly. "Because I'd like to know."

Katara bit her lip and thought for a long moment, watching the way the lamp light flickered off her companions white horns and fangs as he hunched over his plate. Finally she came to a decision, and she reached inside her outer robe and producing a rumpled scroll of paper.

"Kala brought me a letter this morning," she said as she handed the scroll to the Spirit. He accepted it and unrolled it as carefully as he could, glancing at her in question. When she nodded he looked back to the letter and began to read.

"_Dear Katara_," it read in a neat but child-like scrawl, although the kanji's were at times jerky where the writer had pressed too hard into the paper.

"_Sokka's still sick. It's picken pox. I had it when I was little, and Toph caught it when Sokka did and she got better in a couple weeks, but the doctor said that since Sokka's older, and because it's usually worse in men, that he could…" _Something here was crossed out and the Spirit could barely make out the next few words. "_He might not get better. His fever broke for a while, but now he's getting worse again. Katara, I know you could heal him, I've seen you break fevers when the kids got sick back in the Water Tribe. There has to be some way. If I came back and offered to switch places with you again, do you think he would let you go?"_

As he read those words the letter began to smolder. The Spirit stared, shocked for a moment and not realizing that he had done it, before quickly smothered the flame. When he was done he looked back at the water bender, who was once again staring listlessly at her food. The spirit rolled what was left of the letter back up and placed it on the table between them before also returning to his meal.

Neither spoke again for the rest of the evening.

o

The next morning Katara was pulled from sleep by a knock at her door.

"Just a moment," she called, rubbing at her eyes and getting out of the bed. She quickly pulled on her robe and went to open the door. Before her floated Iroh's candle and a bundle the size or a medium pumpkin-melon.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I am sorry for waking you so early, Miss Katara," came Iroh's voice, hesitating as if not sure how to best phrase what he needed to say, "But my nephew has… requested that you leave the ship immediately and return to your brother."

Katara couldn't tell which emotion came first, hurt over being told to leave or elation and relief that she was free, so quickly did one chase the other, forming a twisted knot where her heart should have been.

"Did he, did he say why?"

"He did not. He only said for me to give you this for the journey." The bundle floated to Katara and she took it in her arms and looked inside to find supplies and food, along with money. The girl gaped at the amount.

"He also said for you to go quickly." With this the candle floated aside.

Katara blinked dumbly before shouldering the pack, quickly gathering her few possession, and moving through the doorway. Half way down the hall she stopped and turned around.

"Should I come back? Once I've seen to my brother's health, am I expected to return?" She heard a heavy sigh before Iroh answered.

"No, you are not expected to. You're free now."

Katara nodded jerkily and continued back down the hall. She was nearly at the exit when she stopped again.

"May I come back?" she asked softly. When there was no response she turned around, preparing to repeat the question, but Iroh's candle had disappeared.

She then left without another backwards glance.

o

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><p>AN:

Yaojing – a Chinese term for demon, the kanji translates literally to seductive

Shen – a Chinese term for spirit

(According to Wikipedia, at least!)

The other names I just sorta made up.

I'm not going to pretend to have even the beginnings of a working understanding of either Chinese or Japanese culture and history – blame it on western bias in the education system, I guess. The general religious/spiritual atmosphere is loosely based on what would have been experienced in some parts of the Roman Empire, based on what I've read on the subject at least. Sort of a market for spirituality with different cults devoted to exotic gods from around the empire coming in and out of vogue. I don't think it's too much a stretch, given how large a place the Earth Kingdom is, for there to be that much cultural diversity, even if it isn't an empire constantly coming into contact with, conquering, and assimilating new cultures.

Wow there's a lot of culture mixing in this. It's a Western European fairytale set in universe heavily based on east Asian culture, that then has some of religious environment of Roman antiquity thrown in for kicks because I happened to have just read a book about it at the time most of the chapter was written.

I hope you enjoyed it, and I'm sorry again that it took so long. There are only one or two more chapters left (I had it originally planned as one, but on review it might work better as two. I'll have to see once I actually start writing it) and unless something weird happens it shouldn't take as long this time now that I've gotten it back off the ground. Of course I originally intended the entire story to be finished by the end of November and we all know how that turned out, and I have a lot more going on now than I did then :/ (school, a job, a play to write). I'm going to shoot for having the next chapter by April since if I set myself a deadline I'm way more likely to actually get I done.

I also wanted to clarify again that this is** not** an adaptation of the Disney version of the story. As a lover of princesses with pretty dresses and libraries and singing about dreams, of course I love that movie, and I think it is hypothetically possible to write good quality fanfic based on something like that, but that's not what this is. The closest thing we'll be getting to a singing teapot is a singing teaphile (aka Uncle Iroh, although he won't be singing in this story, as much as we all love music night). I don't think most of my readers are expecting it to be, but I want to make sure no one ends up put out in the end because a group of villagers led by a narcissist didn't storm the ship with torches and pitchforks, somehow managing to stay in key all the while (as much fun as that always is and as long as it's been since I've been part of an angry mob).

Quick thanks to likexaxdove for reading a rough draft of this back in December to make sure that everything actually made sense from a reader's perspective.

Thank you for reading (and reviewing if you feel like it)!


	5. The Return

A/N: thank you so much for the reviews and favorites and alerts, and I'm sorry for the wait! I hope you enjoy!

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><p><strong>Part V : The Return<strong>

o

Appa met Katara just beyond the forest, in the field outside of town where they had first landed him all those months ago. She was more than surprised, confused even, until she spotted Kala fluttering around the bison's head, her little hoot-mew becoming louder and more excited the closer the waterbender got. _Catowls are touched by spirit world_, Katara remembered as she buried her face in Appa's soft fur, the bison groaning happily in greeting, and a feeling of warmth, relief, _home_ flowing through her at the familiar sight and smell and sound of her best friend's animal companion.

They made good time, soring over the Earth Kingdom. Appa knew where he was going and seemed to also understand that there was no time to spare – the wind whipped through Katara's hair, untangling it from its braid only to tangle it again in knots. Katara didn't care, her joy at this feeling of freedom almost overtaking her worry for Sokka and filling her till she thought she would be flying herself if not for the warmth of Kala purring in her lap weighing her down to the saddle.

The sun was almost disappeared beyond the horizon when Appa began his descent towards an estate outside a mid-sized town. Aang spotted Appa first, his orange clad figure jumping up and down as only and airbender could, waving with one hand and using the other to shield his eyes against the sun. As they came nearer Katara saw another figure beside him, a small girl in green who stood with her arms crossed, not even looking up until the very moment that the bison touched down.

"Katara!" Aang had her swept into a hug before her feet even hit the ground. "So that's where Appa went – I can't believe you're really here!"

"I can't either." Katara pulled back to look up at him – had he been this tall the last time she saw him? – and turned serious. "Where's Sokka?"

Aang nodded and grabbed her hand to lead her towards the house – mansion, really. "He's inside. Toph's parents called the best physicians in the area, but picken pox aren't very common here and they've only been able to do so much."

"Toph?" Katara looked behind her and saw the girl in green trailing behind them, misty eyed and barefoot. "I'm sorry, I…"

The girl waved her off. "Proper introduction can wait until after you've seen to Snoozles."

The waterbender wanted to ask who Snoozles was, but by this time they had reached the first floor guest room-turned infirmary and all thoughts that weren't centered on Sokka and healing were pushed aside

o

Katara spent the next week at Sokka's bed side, meals delivered by Aang between purportedly brutal training sessions with Toph Bei Fong, the delicate teenage daughter of the richest family in the area (or hellion bending prodigy, depending on where you got your information). The earthbender herself wasn't allowed in the room for fear that she would catch the disease. Little did her parents know that she had in fact caught it and recovered weeks ago – those itchy red bumps were passed off as mosquito-ant bites and the elder Bei Fongs had demanded that she be inside and hour before dark from then on. It was best to humor them, Aang told Katara, and let them go on thinking they had at least some control over their willful, duplicitous daughter, who was much stronger and better traveled than they would ever be willing to imagine. But the story of how he and Sokka met Toph, and how they managed to convince her parents to allow her to train, was best left for Sokka to tell once he was fully recovered.

Because he would be okay, they wouldn't allow themselves to entertain any other possibility.

Luckily Katara has arrived in time, and with the combination of water tribe remedies passed down through generation and a healthy dose of her "magic glowy healy water", as Sokka always used to refer to it, she was able to see him through the worst of the fever, and by the end of the third day her brother was well on his way to a full recovery.

Katara sat by his bedside that night, as she had since she arrived, tired and relieved. "You had me worried there, big brother," she whispered. He cracked an eye open a grinned – she should have known, really, he always snored when he was really out.

"All part of the plan, sis. Had to save you from that blue monster somehow."

She laughed, ignoring the stab of _something_ that shot through her heart. "That was your plan? Nearly die so I would have to come rescue you?"

He shrugged as best he good, laying down as he was. "It worked didn't it?"

Katara leaned forward on her elbows, forehead in her palm, and sighed in exasperation. She was smiling so widely her cheeks hurt. She shifted her head just a bit so she could look at her brother, searching for something to say, when there was a soft knock on the door.

She raised her head to address the knocker, but Sokka beat her to it.

"Come in!"

The door blew open to reveal Aang with the evening's meal on a tray.

"You're better!" the younger boy said happily as he zoomed in, nearly spilling the soup in his excitement but making a last minute save with the aid of his waterbending. "I knew you'd be fine once Katara got here."

o

They spent the rest of the evening around Sokka's bed, joined much later by Toph, once the rest of the household was well asleep and she could sneak out of her room and downstairs. Even though Katara had read about most of them in their letters, she let them tell her all over again about their adventures, the sound of the boys' voices washing over her like the first rain after a drought, while Toph's interjections and interruptions brought to mind the descriptions of her from the letters and filled in the blanks.

It felt almost like home.

When Katara started to cry the others chalked it up to exhaustion. Toph and Aang led her to another room ("We have more guest rooms then a Ba Sing Se has spider cathouses" said Toph, reveling in the incongruity of the filthiness of her statement and the grandness of her home) and left her to sleep. The bed was too large and too soft, and her tears too raw where they caught in her throat, but hours must have past because when she opened her eyes again the false dawn was already peeking through the east facing window, where Kala was tapping insistently. Without thinking Katara rose from the bed and went to the window to let her in – the animal hadn't been seen since they first arrived at the Bei Fong estate. The girl struggled with the pane in her sleep-fogged state, but finally figured out the latches and pushed it open. Kala flew inside and settled into her arms with a pathetic sounding mew, nuzzling against her chest. Katara smiled a little to herself and scratched her behind her ears as she went back to bed, knowing full well that the catowl could be a deadly predator when she chose. But with Katara she was a kitten, loyal and harmless.

o

Weeks passed. With Sokka fully recovered, and Aang immersed in training with Toph, the water tribe siblings had little to do aside from avoid the ire of the earth bender's hoity-toity parents. Katara found her thoughts returning to that mysterious ship and the blue demon more often than she would have liked

"So, he really just let you go?" Sokka asked, for what felt like the thousandth time, one afternoon as they lounged outside by the manmade pond, the sound of Toph's acerbic laughter and barked orders in the background.

Katara let the tiny ice sculpture she held in her palm melt and splash to the ground.

"Yes, he really just let me go."

The tautness of her voice was not lost on Sokka. "Katara, whatever happened… you know you can talk to me, right?"

"There's nothing left to tell." Katara flicked the water dripping from her hand towards the wand, making it hit the surface with a smack. "I was treated kindly. And. when I showed the Spirit Aang's letter, I was told to leave."

Sokka sighed. "Look, sis, I'm just worried. _We're_ worried. Me, Aang, even Toph and, well, she's _Toph_ – plus she only just met you."

The water bender's shoulders relaxed, and she turned and smiled at her brother. "I know I've been kind of distant, Sokka. I'm sorry, I just…"

She was cut off by Aang's voice. "Katara! Sokka! Guess what!"

"What is it Aang?"

"Toph said I've almost mastered earth bending!"

"Not so fast Twinkle Toes," came Toph, laughing and running after, "I said you were on your way to mastering it – you still have a long way to go."

Aang stopped at the edge of the pond and turned round to stick his tongue out at her and Toph barreled right into him. Together they fell into the pond, peals of laughter following and water splashing in Sokka's face.

"Sorry, Snoozles, didn't mean to get you wet, too."

Another jet of water nailed Sokka, who was now truly soaking.

Aang grinned. "But I did!"

"Katara," the Sokka whined, "Aren't you going to do something about this?"

The waterbender, who had already delicately removed herself from the splash zone, shook her head.

"Nope, I'm staying out of this," she laughed, not wanting to ruin their fun, but also wanting to make herself scarce before one of the Bei Fongs' servants heard the racket, or worse the Bei Fongs themselves, and raised a tizzy over what a horrible influence the Avatar was on their gentle, refined little girl.

She made her way through the garden paths, thinking she would go check on Appa, when Kala flew past, dropping something at Katara's feet before rounding back and landing on the back of a bench, cooing proudly.

Katara crouched down to examine Kala's gift – a sunrose, much worse for the wear. She picked it up gently, but even so several shriveled petals fell off.

Footsteps came from she had just come and Katara gripped the stem in panic, pricking her skin and dropping it to the ground. She sucked on the pad of her index finger where the blood welled up and swiftly, urgently, grabbed at the bloom and shoved it in her pants pocket then quickly gathered the petals that had fallen off and shoved them in after.

"Katara?" It was Aang.

The waterbender turned around to face him, smiling. "Yes, Aang?"

"Just wondering where you went off, too, is all."

"Just for a walk - didn't feel like getting pulled into a water war." The words came out too fast and too loud, even though they were the truth. "I'd decimate you all anyway." Her laugh came out forced.

Aang cocked his head, sizing her up. He then spotted the catowl grooming herself on the bench.

"Hey, Kala's back! I haven't seen her in days." The animal raised her head at the sound of her name and luxuriously stretched out her wings and yawned before finally lifting off to circle the avatar twice and land on his shoulder.

"I wonder where you went," Aang said as Kala rubbed her head against his cheek affectionately.

"She was probably just hunting," Katara said, it coming out a little more defensively than she would have like. "Not everyone's digestive system was designed for vegetarianism, after all."

Aang nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's okay, Kala, I understand. Come on, let's go see Appa. Do you want to come, Katara?"

Katara fidgeted, her hand ghosting over the pocket hidden under her dress.

"Um… yeah! Sure. Let's go see Appa."

That night Katara sat up in bed listlessly flipping through the book of spirit tales, the same that had been in her room aboard the ship; she had discovered that it was included in the pack Iroh gave her the morning she left. As she turned the pages, one after the other, a blank scrap of parchment feel out. Katara frowned and flicked to the area it seemed to have fallen from, trying to find what page had been marked when Kala flew in through the open window. She announced herself with a soft, drawn out hoot and landed on top of the open book.

Katara frowned in mock annoyance, but with only the light from a single candle it was too dark to bother straining her eyes to actual read. So when the catowl blinked at her and started purring the waterbender couldn't help but to smile and scratch behind the creature's ear. Kala preened, soaking in the attention, her eyes closed in what looked like the feline-version of a smile, before opening them again. Her green eyes glowed, staring directly into Katara's own. Then she blinked, and turned her head just an inch towards the table by the bed; a reflection of the candle's flame flashed in Kala's eyes making them appear almost gold and Katara felt her heart restrict for a painful moment before she followed their gaze with her own eyes.

The sunrose. She had tried to salvage what was left of it, swiping a vase from an end table in a little used hallway and using her bending to bring back to life as well as she could the petals that remained attach. It wasn't perfect, but it was still one of the most beautiful flowers she'd ever seen.

Katara wiped at her eyes with the heel of her palm and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She needed to do something.

Kala sat up and swatted at the girl's wrist where she still wore the leather bracelet the stall owner had given her the day that Sokka and Aang had gone exploring. Katara blinked dumbly, once, twice, then suddenly understanding pulled off the bracelet, and looked back to Kala, a question in her eyes. The catowl rubbed her head into Katara's hand.

"Okay, then." The waterbender wrapped the bracelet around Kala's foreleg, taking care that it was secure and wouldn't fall off. "You know where to go, girl."

And Kala was off, back out the window and into the night.

o

As spring arrived and settled the Bei Fong garden came into full bloom, which meant the groundskeeper was increasingly annoyed by the… damage incurred during Toph and Aang's training sessions. It was on the eve of the girl's 16th birthday – the age at which young men and women were traditionally considered to have reached adult hood in this part of the Earth Kingdom - that she declared Aang to be "reasonably competent" in earth bending.

It was this same day that Kala returned, dropping a pai sho tile in Katara's lap where she sat watching the two younger benders practice, clapping at the appropriate times and being generally encouraging.

"Is that that bird thing again?" Toph asked, pausing in her bending to cock an ear in the direction of the catowl's flapping wings

"Her name is Kala," Katara corrected gently, pocketing the tile so she could examine it later when she was alone.

The earthbender huffed. "Sorry. Thing just makes me twitchy – always hovering around and never sticking to the ground. It's almost as bad as Twinkle Toes." She quickly shifter her right foot, blocking an attack from Aang, who was trying his very best to be sneaky with his earth bending, a combination he hadn't quite mastered yet.

"Speaking of twitchy – where's Sokka?" Aang asked.

"He's in town getting my present!" Toph chirped, sending an attack that Aang just barely dodged.

"Toph!" Aang pouted. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Less dodging, more blocking!"

With a huff the boy sent up a wall, effectively blocking Toph's attack.

"Good one, TT."

"Yes!" Aang beamed under the hard earned praise.

"So… how long do you think it'll be until Aang's mastered earth bending?"

"How long did it take him to master water?"

Aang groaned. "It took me over _four years_."

"But you weren't training as hard then as you are now," Katara quickly pointed out. "I mean, it might have been difficult at first, but you've made great progress with earth, hasn't he Toph?"

Aang looked at Toph, eyes big and hopeful. She just shrugged, nonchalantly, before finally cracking a grin. "He's reasonably competent."

Katara sucked in a breath.

"Then, maybe we should start thinking about looking for a firebending sifu."

For a long moment neither Aang nor Toph responded.

"But, I'm not done with my earth training yet… am I?" he turned to the earth bender, almost fearful of her answer

Katara hurried on. "Toph can come with us. Her parents can't force her to stay here once she's 16, and I don't think she'd _mind_ leaving, would you?"

Toph sat down on the ground and leaned back on her hands. "No question there, Sugar Queen. I'd love to get out of here."

"And," Katara continues, "It's not going to be easy to finding someone to teach you, not with how hostile the fire nation's been to towards the other nations lately. We need to start looking as soon as possible."

Aang rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Silence sat amongst them as the three benders, broken only by the fluttering sound of Kala's wings as she rearranged them while grooming herself.

"So," said Toph at last, "Who wants to break the news to my parents?"

Katara and Aang's eyes darted to Toph, than to each other. Even Kala had stilled, sensing the sudden tension.

"_Not it!"_ all three said in unison.

"Hey guys, what're you talking about?" came Sokka's voice from a distance, and Toph grinned evilly.

o

It would be a bit cruel to her parents to leave the moment she was of legal age, Aang had argued to Toph, so after some discussion they decided they would leave in a week. It was also finally decided that it should fall to Toph, not Sokka, to break the new to the elder Bei Fongs. Katara was a little reticent about this – the younger girl was far from the most sensitive or diplomatic person – but they were her parents after all, so she should know how best to handle the situation.

Katara was in her room packing her few possessions the night before they were set to leave. She paused when she came across the pai sho tile as she sorted through the few simple hair ornaments and other small frivolities she allowed herself .

It was the boat, a piece she had been fond of employing in her matches against the spirit, often to her detriment as it made her somewhat predictable. Katara ran her thumb over the cool polished stone feeling the pattern of the ship, the carving worn smooth from use.

She bit back a sigh and hastily put it away when she heard a rough knock at her door, whoever it was barging in before she had the chance to ask who it was.

Sokka of course.

Katara huffed. "Will you ever learn to knock?"

"Sorry, just checking to making sure you're ready." He at least had the decency to school his face into an expression that he probably _thought_ passed as contrite.

"I'm pretty much all packed, here," she said, closing her travel satchel

"Okay, good, cause we're going to be headed out in couple hours."

Katara stopped what she was doing and turned her to him. "Couple hours? I thought we were leaving in the morning."

"Change of plans. Toph talked to her parents, and apparently they thought it'd be best to leave tonight."

"_They_ thought?"

"Look," Sokka said with a shrug, "When it comes to her parents, Aang and I have learned that it's best just to follow her lead and not ask questions."

Later Katara would nag it out of Toph that she hadn't spoken to her parents at all, opting instead to leave them a letter explaining everything. It was just easier that way, she claimed, and besides, she was an adult now and was in no need of a _second_ mother, so Katara could go sprinkle her sunshine somewhere else.

The waterbender was beginning to understand what Sokka had meant in his letters when he had said Toph was a little difficult.

"Appa, why are you landing? You aren't tired already, are you?"

Katara blinked blearily at the false dawn that greeted her as she pulled herself from sleep.

"Come on boy," came Aang's voice again. "Can't you go a little further, just to the next town over or something?"

Katara now sat up, rubbing at her eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked, failing to hold back a jaw cracking yawn as the words left her mouth.

Aang looked guiltily back at her. "Um, well, we weren't going to stop here, but, Appa seems to have other ideas. I don't know what's gotten into him."

Katara used the edge of the saddle to pull herself up onto her knees and looked past Aang to where Kala was keeping pace right beside Appa's head.

"It looks like he and Kala are conspiring about something," she mused, still sleepy.

"Are we landing?" came Toph, roused from her own fitful slumber. "Thank earth, flying on this thing is awful. No offense Appa."

Sokka snorted, still fast asleep, as the bison landed.

"Time to wake up, sleeping beauty," said Toph, giving Sokka a swift kick before jumping to the ground.

"Puh, wah? What's happening?" Sokka sat up, hair a mess and a red indent on his face from where it had pressed against his pack.

"Appa decided it was time to stop…" Aang looked apologetically towards the older boy.

"Wait, we aren't…?" The look on the avatar's face was apparently all the answer Sokka needed.

Katara frowned. "What's going on, guys? Where are we that's so awful?"

The boys shared a look, silently debating who should break the news. Finally Aang spoke.

"This is the same village we were staying in when, well… the whole spirit demon ship… incident."

Katara blinked, and then looked around. Sure enough, there was the village, right over there, and this was the field they had left Appa in. Which meant that somewhere within that forest that edged towards the town…

She quickly shoved down her feelings. "Oh, so it is," she said briskly, sliding down Appa's tail to the ground. "Well, come on, we can go get some food while Appa rests."

Sokka and Aang hesitated, sharing another look.

"Come on, I'm hungry!" yelled Toph from yards away, already half way to town.

o

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><p>AN: At least it didn't take me as long to update as it did last time, right? I'm finished with school and I'm not allowing myself to work (too much) on any of my original writing projects until I have this finished, so the next and final chapter shouldn't take more than a week or two – especially since I've been really looking forward to writing it!

I'm sorry about the lack of Bluetara/Zutara in this chapter, it's just a necessary transition segment.

I really appreciate reviews so I know my readers are still with me after all these delays. Thank you for reading!


	6. Magic

**Part VI : Magic**

o

She was darting around their heads as they wandered through town looking for somewhere to eat, touching down on one soldier and jumping to another, flying a little ahead and then looping back.

"Will you do something about that bird?" Toph said testily, batting the catowl away when she came near. "She's driving me crazy!"

Aang's brow furrowed. "Maybe I should go back and check on Appa…" He held his arms out to Kala when she came near, but she darted away towards Katara and yanked at her braid with her teeth.

"You guys go eat, I'll go back," the waterbender said, rubbing at the back of her head as she trained a scolding look on her pet. "I'm sure it's nothing, she probably just wants to show me a dead badger frog or something."

Sokka and Aang shared a look as she turned around and headed back, causing Toph to roll her head back and sigh.

"Seriously, you guys? She's a master waterbender and she kicks more butt then both of you put together. She'll be fine."

o

Appa was napping when Katara reached him. He opened one eye for a moment before closing it again as she reached out to pat his head. Everything was calm and quiet, no danger to be seen.

Kala landed on the bison's head and gave a loud, plaintive whine that started as meow and ended in a hoot. Appa groaned and shook his head, causing her to flutter her wings, treading air for a moment before landing back down once he stilled. She then meowed again, nipping at his ear insistently. With a reluctant huff Appa opened his eyes and yawned, giving up on his nap.

"What is it, girl?" Katara asked. "What do you want?"

Kala turned her head towards the forest and yowled low in her throat, flapping her wings impatiently. She was becoming more and more stressed by the second and a cold sense of dread shot through Katara's veins.

Quickly she climbed onto the bison's back, took the reins, and gave a "yip yip." As Appa took to the air Kala flew ahead.

"Follow her, boy."

They soared over the forest, Appa having to go top speed to keep up with Kala's flight. The forest beneath her was awash in green and buzzing with life now that it was spring and the dead patch where the ship rested was easy to spot.

She directed Appa downwards as they reach the clearing. The closer they got the more certain she was that something was wrong.

Everything around the ship, the vines and flowers that had flourished in the dead of winter, was dying.

The moment Appa reached the ground Katara jumped off, her heart beating frantically.

"Kala, what's going on?"

The bird took off, lapping the clearing wildly, calling and hooting. Appa stamped his feet, Kala's distress contagious.

"Shh, it's okay Appa," Katara said softly over her shoulder as she approached the ship.

Her eyes followed Kala's flight as the cat-owl swooped nervously above the deck. The last time she was here she had climbed the vines up, but now they were so dry and brittle it was impossible.

Not seeing any other way, Katara whistled for Appa. The bison took a few steps forward, before stopping and shrinking back.

"Appa, come on," Katara ordered, tugging gently on his fur, but he wouldn't budge.

The sound of something knocking against metal made her look back – Kala had pushed a rope over the side. Katara took a step towards it but stopped when Appa groaned.

She patted the bison's nose and assured him that she would come right back before climbing up on deck as quickly as she could, her muscles regretting every moment that she had allowed herself to slack in her training regime recently.

Once on board she headed straight for the command tower but found that the outer door was stuck shut. She tried the mess hall door instead and with after a few hard tugs it came open. Katara's hands flew over her nose and mouth – the dank air inside was heavy with the stench of rotting vegetation.

Kala darted across the room to the stairwell and Katara pressed forward, freezing a path through the sludge with a swipe of her hand. She skidded across and ran up the steps, boots clanging against the metal. She let Kala lead the way, not certain where she was going or what she was looking for.

She halted at a landing when Kala made a sharp turn down one of the narrow corridors – an orange glow came from an open doorway, offering the faintest of illumination. She hurried towards it and froze at what she saw before rushing inside.

There limp on the floor was the demon, yellow licks of light flickering over his naked form.

The room was sweltering. Katara felt beads of sweat forming on the back of her neck as she struggled to roll over his massive form.

"Spirit… Spirit!" She felt the shallow movement of his chest under her hand. "Wake up!" she demanded, shaking his shoulders.

"Oh no… Iroh! Iroh!" she called desperately, looking around for some sign that someone, anyone else was around, even that grumpy rabbit squirrel they called Admiral Jee.

But there was no one, save Kala who was calmly watching some feet away. Desperate, Katara uncapped her water skin and gloved her hand in water but then faltered. She didn't know where or what to heal. Could she even heal a something from the spirit world? At a loss, she instead splashed the water on his face, hoping to bring him back to consciousness.

Gold eyes blinked up at her and her heart skipped a beat.

"Oh thank you La," she whispered.

He breathed in and out shallow and heavy. "Katara?"

"Yes." She placed her hand against his cheek and traced the white ridged patterns. "Yes. It's me."

His eyes closed again. "Is this the spirit world?"

"No, it isn't. You're still here. You're…" she swallowed thickly, shifting so his head was cradled in her lap. "You're okay."

The Spirits eyelids began to droop closed again.

"Hey," the waterbender said, "Stay with me." She shifted a little, reaching into her pocket for something. "I got the Pai Sho tile you sent me." She held it above him in his range of sight; though he opened his eyes they didn't focus on it, instead looking beyond it to her eyes.

"I missed you." It was faint and strained, as if every breathe was a struggle. She didn't know when her tears began but they were flowing freely now, hot and thick. She felt wetness on the Spirits cheeks, as well, when he closed his eyes and leaned into the hand that still rested against the side of his face.

"Goodbye, Katara."

She shook her head furiously. "No! Just tell me what it is, I can help. I'll find a way..."

He opened his eyes and looked up at her, but didn't answer right away. At last he gave a fangy smile and used what looked to be all that was left of his strength to lift one massive blue hand and ever so gently brush her hair behind her ear.

"I'm thankful for you," he murmured.

Katara took his hand in both of hers. _He's wearing my bracelet_, she noted vaguely as she placed the Pai Sho tile in his palm and closed his fingers around it.

"I'm thankful for you, too." Her voice shuddered as a violent sob wracked through her chest as she murmured it against his loosely clenched fingers;. She then pressed a soft kiss in the space between each knuckle, silently begging him not to go.

He let out a sigh, content but full of longing, as if with that breathe every pain he ever felt was at last let go, and closed his eyes for the final time.

He was gone.

Katara let the hand she clutched fall, and buried her face into her own. She couldn't breath, she didn't want to it hurt so much. Why hadn't she come back sooner?

Eventually the insistent hooting of Kala could no longer be ignored, and when Katara finally raised her tear-swollen eyes she gasped.

The demon's body was glowing from within, an ethereal blue light just beneath the skin spreading and growing in intensity. And it was warm, so warm that Katara had to scramble away as it became too hot to bare just moments before the body caught flame.

"What on earth…?" But Katara didn't have time to speculate as the fire rapidly spread, catching anything it could and melting what it couldn't. She had to get out, so she rand, the heat from the blue flame licking at heals.

She raced down the corridor and started down the now-blistering hot stairwell but stopped when she caught sight of more flames blocking her way. She looked up and saw Kala flying towards the observation deck – there was no where else to go.

Once there she caught sight of Appa outside, hovering in the air, fearful but reluctant to leave her. She summoned what water she had left and tore whatever water was left in the dieing fire-roses and used it to clear away the already cracked panes of glass.

"Appa!" she called out, Kala already flying out to him. "Come here boy!"

The bison flew as close to the tower as he could. Katara climbed up and crouched in the window frame, her adrenalin pumping so high she didn't feel it when she slashed open her palm on a shard of glass. With a deep, steadying breath in, and out, she called again.

"Just a little close Appa, come on"

The bison hovered forward, lining himself up so his saddle was directly across from her. Don't look down, she thought to herself, tensing in preparation to make the leap. Suddenly the entire metal structure groaned and shifted forward - Katara nearly fell forward but caught herself, and without another moment's hesitation through herself away tower.

For a split second she was suspended in air, a giddy weightlessness tingling through her limbs, before gravity took hold and slammed her hard into the saddle. Hardly had she managed push herself up into a sitting position, right hand dripping blood and right shoulder aching where she landed on it at an awkward angle, then Appa was off, flying as fast he could away from the ship.

Katara peered over the side of the saddle – the hot glow of blue fire spread steadily outward at an unnatural speed, racing down the vines that covered the outside of the ship. Soon it would overtake the entire clearing.

She would have fearful of a forest fire if not for the certainty that this flame was not of the natural world.

"Appa, hold up." She climbed to his reins, doing her best to avoid using her right arm. "Appa, slow!" She tugged hard on the reins with one hand and he came a reluctant stop in air.

The clearing was left well in the distance but the blue glow had risen so high and was so blinding it was probably visible as far as in town.

"Kala?" the girl called, realizing that she was missing. "Kala!" The catowl was nowhere to seen.

Appa groaned, unwilling to stay put for any longer, and again flew forward, back to from where they came.

o

They were waiting for her outside of town, Sokka pacing angrily with his boomerang while Toph lounged in the grass crunching on candied nuts and Aang tried unsuccessfully to meditate.

They asked her where she went. They asked her what happened to her hastily bandage hand. They asked her where Kala was.

She told them to climb on, that Appa seemed eager to get going.

Even Sokka was able to intuit that she had no intention of telling them what happened, and as she seemed mostly unharmed and as nagging and motherly as ever, they let the matter drop. Maybe they didn't want to know.

For weeks they roved the western Earth Kingdom where Fire Nation emigrants and their descendants were most likely to be found. They ran into few fire benders – it was usually only non-benders who made their way from the islands, seeking better opportunities in a society that didn't favor those who could bend so much more highly than those who couldn't, as the Fire Nation did.

They were beginning to discuss moving on to the Fire Nation in their search, even with the hostilities it extended increasing, when rumors about the reappearance of a lost city first reached their ears.

It was an out of the way place, Yaojing Shen, somewhere between the size of a town and a city, and had, according to the cabbage merchant Katara spoke to, mysteriously vanished years ago. It was spirited away by spirits angered and offended by the inhabitants' mercantile approach to worship, or at least so went the prevailing theory.

Because Yaojing Shen had until seven years ago been a sort of mecca of spirituality, they were later able to gather from some passersby after Aang and Toph had driven the cabbage merchant away by accidentally destroying the bulk of his produce with their impromptu bending battle (Katara apologized profusely and paid for the damages with some of the money Toph had "borrowed" from her parents), and superstition was its main export before its disappearance.

"How did I not hear about this when it happened?" Aang asked when they gathered in the local inn that evening.

Toph flick a piece of dirt she had picked from between her toes at him, earning a pointless glare from Katara. "Probably cause you were still a little kid when it happened."

Aang grimaced and wiped the dirt off his cheek – Toph had amazing aim for a blind girl.

"But I'm the _Avatar_, the link between the spiritual and physical worlds. It should have been… I don't know…. Brought to my attention."

"Oh, look who's mister dutiful all of a sudden," the blind girl teased.

"It was seven years ago," Katara interceded, "You were only ten or eleven when it happened, and most of the world didn't know who the Avatar was yet – they still don't. You're still in training."

Aang pouted and looked sulkily towards the door where a couple only a few years older than them came in and went upstairs to their room, not giving the group a second glance.

He sat up, seeming to have come to a decision. "Well, I _am_ the Avatar, and whether the world knows it or not I have a duty to it. We should go to the city and check on it."

"See if there's any Avatarring needing to be done?" Toph drawled.

"Exactly!"

Katara wondered to herself when it was exactly that he had come to embrace his responsibilities so. _Was it something to do with –_ her heart throbbed, dull and painful, and she didn't finish the thought.

During all this Sokka was busy studying a map – or at least, he had been at first. He seemed to have found what he was looking for some time ago, but remained oddly quiet.

"So," Aang said, turning to the water tribe warrior. "Did you find where Yaojing Shen used to be? Or, I guess, is again?"

Sokka nodded. "Yeah, I found it." He pointed to a spot on the old map he had borrowed from the innkeeper.

Aang and Katara both shuffled over to look over his shoulder while Toph collapsed back on the floor with an exaggerated sigh.

Katara heard Aang's breath catch in his throat.

"Well…?" Toph asked pointedly when the silence dragged on too long for her liking.

"South," Katara said smoothly before either of the boys could speak. "It's about halfway between where we are now and Gaoling. We stopped at a village not far from it the morning after we left your parents', remember?"

The younger girl relaxed, satisfied with the answer, but then abruptly sat back up.

"You mean the day that you went missing for like three hours and Sokka almost had a brain aneurism?"

The room became unbearably tense, everyone's eyes trained on Katara.

"Yes," she said at last, indicating clearly with her tone that that was all she had to say on the matter.

"You know," Aang said gently, placing a hand on Katara's shoulder, "We don't have to go if you don't-"

"Yes we do," she cut him off. "More than ever, now, we need to figure out what happened. _You_ need to figure out what happened." She placed her hand over Aang's and squeezed it before removing it from her shoulder. "It's your duty."

And with that she left, going up the stairs to her room.

o

Katara sat in her bed, reading by candlelight. Since that morning she had read every page of the book of spirit-tales Iroh had given her, as if they would hold some answers.

Iroh, or at least she assumed it had been Iroh, had marked a particular story. It was about the son of rich merchants who ran afoul a river goddess while traveling alone for the first time on business for his parents and was turned into an oni.

And there it ended, a cautionary tale about irresponsibility, or disrespect, or maybe public nudity – Katara didn't care. Whether or not her Spirit has once been human he was gone now, dead.

There was a knock at the door. Katara put the book aside.

"Who is it?" she called towards the door. She got up from the bed and began to try to make herself presentable, fumbling for a dressing robe, but stopped when she heard Aang's voice answer '_It's me.'_

"Oh." She sat back down. "Come in."

The door creaked open and the monk stepped in, closing the door softly behind him.

"Can I help you with something?" Katara asked, her hands folded serenely in her lap. It came out much colder and more formal than intended, but she really wasn't in the mood for a conversation right now.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

He was still so earnest, even now at eighteen, but his eyes were heavier, wiser, than they had been just a year ago when they first left the South Pole.

"I'm fine, Aang, just tired is all," she answered, softening a little as she always did in his presence.

He looked at her, the corners of his mouth quirked down ever so sightly as they always did when concerned about something.

He broke his gaze and looked down, bringing a hand to rub at the back of neck.

"You've been so distant ever since that morning." They both knew what morning he was referring to.

Katara stiffened again.

"Look, I know you don't want to talk about it, but I think you should tell me." He looked up at her again, his face serious. "If not as your friend then as your Avatar. It was something to do with that demon, wasn't it?"

Now it was Katara's turn to look down.

"He dead now." She couldn't keep the bitterness from seeping into her voice. "He shouldn't be a problem for anyone anymore."

"Is that it? There isn't anything else you know that might help me figure out what happened with Yaojing Shen?"

The waterbender shook her head, thoughts somewhere far away.

"I'm really tired Aang. We should both go to sleep." She didn't wait for him to leave before crawling into bed and curling up on her side with her back to the door.

His light footsteps could be heard shuffling to the door and then the doorknob turning.

"I promise I really am okay," she said, still facing away from him. She could almost feel him nodding for a moment before opening the door and then pulling it shut behind him, again being careful to do it softly.

o

It was unrecognizable, and if not for Sokka's navigation skills and assurances that '_yes, this is it, this is the place_', Katara wouldn't have believed that this bustling town crowding the sparkling bay could possibly have been the same place as the overgrown wilderness she had spent months overlooking from the prow of a deteriorating ship.

The forest edged right up against the city, and Aang searched for a place to land Appa amongst the trees or buildings. Luckily word that the Avatar intended to make a visit traveled quickly, Yaojing Shen being host to more visitors than ever as scores of relatives eager to find those they had thought lost forever along with curious sightseers made their way by foot or boat to the rediscovered town. The Avatar and his friends were flagged down by several citizens who had cleared a space in the town center.

The moment they were landed and Aang had hopped down from Appa's back the Avatar was overtaken by fawning and thanks.

"Thank you for saving us, Avatar."

"We don't know what you did, but you have our eternal gratitude."

"Here, my signature appleberry fruit tart, as a token of gratitude for intervening with the spirits and releasing us from that horrible limbo."

Aang, to his credit, demurred and tried to explain that he didn't really have anything to do with whatever it was that ended whatever had happened for whatever reason to the town, but he couldn't help but go wide eyed at the sight and smell of the gifts being offered.

"Don't thank him," Toph called, landing with a harder-than-necessary _thud _that reverberated through the ground enough to cause a few members of their welcome party to almost topple over_._ "He didn't even know you guys were missing until after you had already showed up again."

Aang looked up from the baked good held in front of his face, over which he had been nearly salivating, and rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"She's right," he admitted. "I don't know what happened – I'm just as lost as everyone else."

The matron who had offered him the tart furrowed her brow.

"But, you are the Avatar, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. But I haven't finished my training yet. Plus, when this first happened I didn't even _know _I was the Avatar yet."

When there was a disappointed murmuring amongst the crowd and motions were made to leave, Aang quickly spoke again, hating to disappoint people.

"Wait!" he called, putting on his most Avatar-y face. "I may not have completed my training yet, but I am here to help you in any way I can in this trying time as you reassimilate, and to serve as a, uh, spiritual... consultant?"

"So do you know why this happened to us?" asked a man in the middle of the crowd, quickly followed by a rumble of _yeah's _and _what did we do'_s.

"Um, well, we, my friends and I, we did encounter some sort of demon in this area several months ago..."

For most of this Katara had remained out of the way on Appa's saddle, allowing Aang to try his hand at speech making – it really was her forte, but if he was going to be the Avatar he'd need to practice. Sokka had already climbed down and was helping himself to some fruit tarts when from the corner of her eye Katara caught a glimpse of a familiar shade of blue.

Her head immediately jerked in its direction and she saw for a split moment that it was a mask, ultramarine blue with bright white fangs and horns, before it was blocked by the body of the person carrying it as they disappeared around a corner.

Noting the preoccupation of her friends Katara quickly slipped down the other side of Appa and ducked around the crowd in the direction the figure went.

She searched the street, eyes darting amongst the few people milling about. The atmosphere was subdued and nervous, the populace still disoriented and unsure of the reality of their surroundings, but gamely making motions towards reestablishing their businesses and lives.

He wasn't too difficult to spot, though he was some distance ahead of her – it was summer now and there weren't many others about wearing hooded cloaks in such weather. Katara dashed after, increasing her speed when he went down another alley lest she lose him. Barely hearing their alarmed yelps at nearly being bowled over by a blur of blue she weaved through the groups of men and women in her way, determined to catch up to whoever it was that held that mask, that face that still haunted her dreams and made her heartache with mourning.

The alley was deserted by the time she skidded to a stop in front of it, but there on the stoop of the shack at the end of the street was the blue spirit mask, carefully balanced against a step, like an offering. Katara rushed towards it and grabbed it with both hands – she could hear her heart beating in her ears and he nostrils flared as she took in deep breaths while her eyes roamed greedily, desperately over the face.

Tearing her eyes away from the mask, she looked around for any clues as to where the figure went – she had to ask them, ask them what? Where it came from? What they knew? How they had it and why they had it and _who did they think they were just leaving it there?_

Luckily there were footsteps leading from the back of the shack into the woods. Katara thanked La that she paid attention when her father taught her and Sokka how to track.

She followed the trail as quickly as she could find it. Whoever it was they moved slowly, dragging their feet as someone would if tired or hurt, but the path moved in a purposeful direction.

The trees grew so thickly together that it wasn't until she was already upon it that Katara even saw the small clearing – or the boy sitting against a log across from her, elbows resting on knees, head resting in hands, the hood of his cloak thrown back to expose shaggy black hair that his fingers wound through.

He was s far as she knew a complete stranger, but he seemed somehow familiar. She took a tentative step forward and like a coiled spring he shot to his feet into a defensive position. Had she said he was a boy?

Katara swallowed dryly.

Though he couldn't have been more than a few years older than her, by his height and broad shoulders this was no boy but, _clearly,_ a man.

A flash of recognition passed over the man's face and his arms dropped limply to his sides. He took half a dozen quick, purposeful steps towards her and Katara instinctively took a step back, causing him to stop short .

Now that he was closer she could see – his eyes were gold, a shade of gold so familiar it made her breath catch in her throat, and so dear that she almost didn't even notice the lurid red scar stretching over the left side of his face.

She couldn't think. Her mind along with everything else – the wind, the birds, her heart – had come to a complete stand still.

After an interminable length of time she their eye contact to look down at the mask in her hands and into its hollow eyes.

Slowly looking back up, her feet drew her forward until she stood directly before the stranger. Struck by self-consciousness at her closeness he ducked his head, touching his hand to his scar. There was a blue leather bracelet on his wrist that Katara noted breathlessly as her own as she took his hand and moved it way so she could lift the mask to his face. He sucked in a breath, holding it, and held still cooperatively as she lifted the mask to his face.

Gold eyes met blue.

And then she was crying

She shook so that the mask fell from her hands to the ground.

"Katara?" The low crack of concern in his voice was what broke her.

Before he could react he was nearly toppled over by the force of her body colliding with his as she flung her arms around his neck.

"This can't be real," she murmured over and over into his shoulder. "This can't be real."

But he felt so solid, so warm, and she could hear, could _feel, _every breathe and every heart beat.

His arms tightened around her waist and his lips tickled her ear when he whispered again.

"_Katara."_

She pulled away just enough to look him again in the eyes.

"It's you."

He brought a hand up to wipe away a tear even as one dribbled down his own cheek, and he nodded.

"It's me."

Her entire face glowed with her smile even as her eyes still shone with tears, and the boy, the _man,_ found himself smiling ,too.

Katara knew that smile, even without the fangs.

Moving as one their lips met in a kiss, soft and warm and sweet and as insistent as the joy bubbling up inside them. When the broke apart to catch their breath he lifted her up and she squealed in delight as he span her around before kissing her again.

Though it was daytime Katara could have sworn she heard the hoot of an owl in the distance.

o

Sometime later, when their need to touch, to ascertain with lips and hands that the other was really there, was really real, had subsided somewhat, she would ask him questions. He would answer them as best he could, insisting that Uncle, who was probably off somewhere drinking tea or maybe on the ship seeing to the crew (who had all transformed back to their human form, as had the the citizens of Yaojing Shen) could explain it better.

It might, he admitted shyly, have had something to do with how he felt about her. Katara smiled and kissed him before saying that she might just feel the same way.

He would finally tell her his name, _Zuko,_ and she would repeat it, rolling it over her tongue, tasting and relishing the sounds. They would both blush fiercely when she inadvertently admitted how handsome she found him ("Of course you're a prince," she murmured ruefully, though still smiling and giddy. "You're so handsome, you'd have to go and be a prince on top of it, wouldn't you?").

And they would kiss, again, and again, for a good long while before remembering that there were people who might be wondering where they were. But, he informed her solemnly, even if his father wanted him back in the Fire Nation he fully intended on staying by her side, if she would allow him.

Struck with a wonderful idea Katara would pull him back to town and would track down her brother and friends. And when they would ask her, who is this? she would tell them that she thinks she found Aang a fire bending sifu, and that they couldn't hope to find any better.

o

* * *

><p>AN : The end! This would have been published a couple weeks earlier but my hard drive died and I was without a computer for a while - luckily I was able to save everything I already had written. And I'm sorry about typos - I promised myself I would put this up before going to bed, and they're always there no matter how many times I try to proofread and always so embarrassing .

Thank you so much for sticking with me and reading even with the long update wait - or reading it for the first time all in one again! Every time I get an email alerting me that someone's favorited or alerted or especially reviewed my mood goes up and I feel a little more motivated to work on my writing! I can't say it's anywhere near as good as I would like it to be, but I think I've improved over the course of writing this, and it was really fun and rewarding.


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